


Quake

by BuckyBuchananBarnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Political Animals, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Crossover, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Dubious Consent, Fluff, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Past Suicide Attempt, Post-Battle of New York (Marvel), dub con, past tony stark/TJ hammond, smut at some point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckyBuchananBarnes/pseuds/BuckyBuchananBarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TJ knew he had to change his life before it was too late. The problem is, he never had a reason to. His family had given up and his friends were in the same boat he was. <br/>After he meets Steve, he thinks maybe there's a chance for him after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fic that I'm posting so I hope you guys like it. Thank you to @haelie-theoncoming-storm on tumblr for editing and helping me with this! Also, thank you to @jlstreck for being the first to read it :)

“TJ!” The voice is sharp in his ear and he shoots up, fresh from sleep.

TJ rubs his eyes and looks up groggily at his brother, who is standing over his bed with a glare on his face. Douglas could never school his expressions. His young face already had deep wrinkles engraved on his forehead from frowning. His light hair was constantly tousled from him running his hands through it.

“What?” It comes out sharper than he means it to. He winces at his brother's expression. “Sorry Dougie...” TJ rolls out of bed and stands up, feet sinking into the plush, dark carpet. Most of the decor in his room is dark. His mom and brother were against the design, but TJ finds dark colors calm him. His favorite color in his room has to be the walls. They’re porpoise grey and covered in photographs he enjoys. He knows people view it as childish for him to be 28 and have a room covered in pictures, but he’s stopped caring. He’s just trying to do what makes him happy.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. You just need to get up now. Mom says you forgot the groceries for the party today.” Douglas moves back a few steps from TJ. His footprints leave indents in the carpet.

TJ rolls his eyes. “Mom does realize she’s the president of the United States, right? She can have anyone she wants get her groceries.” As TJ’s talking, he runs his long fingers through his hair, trying to neaten it. His mom has always said he has “fingers made to play the piano”. She engraved it in his brain as a child and TJ is convinced that’s why he even began to play. Of course, it was one of the best decisions he had ever made.

“Ha! Yeah, and you’re the one she wants. Now put some pants on and hurry up. Party starts in a few hours.”

“Ugh, fine. If I must.” He looks around his room and puts on the cleanest looking pair of grey Cavalli jeans. His red Henley shirt is wrinkled but it will have to do. “Tell mom I’m leaving now.”

TJ walks forward and Douglas stops him. “You might find this helpful.” He smirks and hands TJ the shopping list.TJ blushes and grabs the list, hastily heading to the door and out to his car.

As he heads down the stairs and to the garage, a hand grabs his arm. “And where are you off to, hm?” TJ’s secret service agent asks sharply. The agent has beady eyes; TJ has never trusted him. A shiver runs down his spine. The agent’s suit is a crisp black and unlike TJ’s outfit, there isn’t a wrinkle in sight.

TJ frowns and tries to think of an excuse to go alone. Douglas never goes anywhere with an agent but their mom requires TJ to have one. He thinks it’s because of the drug use. Douglas insists it’s because he works for their mom and therefore is usually around secret service men anyway. TJ isn’t convinced.

“I’m just uh, headed out to do some shopping. I’ll just be gone for an hour.” He shrugs off the agent’s hand and tries to step past him.  
“You know I can’t let you go alone.” The agent makes a grab for TJ’s keys, pushing him into the stairway corner.

“Hey, wait! Wait, c’mon. How much do you want?” TJ pushes the man back.  
“Excuse me?” The agent asks in fake astonishment.  
“What do you want Stan?” He takes out his wallet and begins counting the bills. “Is $300 good?”  
“Oh, TJ. A man after my own heart.” He laughs and snatches the three hundreds from TJ’s hands. “Nice doing business with you, kid.” He winks and saunters off.

TJ jogs out to the garage and grabs the keys for his Maserati GranTurismo Sport. He remembers his mom giving it to him for his 21st birthday present and grimaces at the memory. His life wasn’t great before 21, but it sure got a hell of a lot worse after. He can still remember the look on his mom’s face when he came home that night after his party.

He shakes the thought out of his head and gets in his car. He backs out of the garage then heads into the city. TJ drives to his normal parking lot right, before the city gets dense. He’s always hated driving in Manhattan, and after almost getting in a wreck two months ago, he’d stopped driving past a certain point.

Locking the car, he puts on his sunglasses and starts walking down the street towards the store. Looking down at his watch, he sees he has extra time and decides to head to Times Square first. His family usually stays in the White House so he always likes to explore Manhattan when they’re at their New York residence.

As he approaches, he hears a commotion farther down. Curious, TJ follows the sounds. As he rounds the corner, a small metal table flies past him and someone screams.

“Oh!” TJ jumps back and clutches his chest in surprise. He looks around at what he’s just walked into– people are running wild and shouting. While they are organised, in disarray, they all seem to be running from the same direction.

He tries to catch someone but everyone is in a panic. He sees people run into buildings, trying to take cover from whatever is happening. As he goes to follow, a loud screech sound from around a corner.

He turns quickly, but is thrown to the ground. A sharp pain stabs through his thigh and he lets out a scream. He struggles onto his back and sees a creature standing above him. His eyes go wide and the shock takes the air out of him. The creature shrieks again and lunges onto him, it’s mouth inches from his face.

TJ starts screaming and struggles to get the thing off him. It plunges its claws back into his leg. He can feel the blood rush out as he starts to get lightheaded. The ground beneath him has turned into a puddle of his own blood.

The creature bites into his shoulder. “Please! Please st–stop. Oh god.” He begins to sob as the pain takes over his body. He curls in on himself, unable to get the creature off.  
There’s fast footsteps running towards him. He can just make out voices, and then the thing falls limply onto him, growing heavier as it becomes dead weight. He screams again and it’s pulled off him. The creature is stained with his own blood; he begins to vomit.

“Steve, we need to get him help,” a gruff voice states.  
“I know, I know.” There are hands gently grasping his head and resting it on the person’s lap. TJ blinks wearily as his sobs turn into whimpers. The man above him looks down with kind, concerned eyes. “What’s your name, kid?”  
TJ tries to speak but only groans come out. The man frowns slightly and looks back to the people with him. 

A lady with short red hair appears and kneels down next to– “Steve, we need to move him now. Thor says more Chitauri are on their way. Tony and Bruce are trying to hold them off.”

The man’s- Steve, TJ is assuming- frown deepens. He looks down at TJ with his kind eyes. “I’m gonna pick you up okay? We’re gonna make sure you’re safe. Just… hold on for a second. I just need to secure your leg.” He pauses as he begins to apparently asses the situation. “I need your shirt, buddy.” He reaches out to TJ and begins to pull the shirt up and off Tj, who winces at the movement. Steve places TJ’s head softly on the ground then moves down to tie the shirt around the top of TJ’s thigh.

“Steve, we gotta go!” The man with the gruff voice shouts before running the other way.  
Steve carefully picks TJ up bridal style and TJ curls into his chest. “It’s gonna be okay.” Steve’s voice is just above a whisper as he strides towards the closest building with TJ in his arms. Steve backs into the door and enters what TJ assumes is an office building. There’s a large group of people gathered in the back of the room. He places TJ down on a plush, black couch pushed against one of the walls.

“Oww,” TJ opens his eyes and looks down at his legs. His jeans are completely torn and stained dark red from his own blood. “Oh god,” His chest starts heaving as the panic sets in again. He sees his thigh is just one big gash and he quickly looks away. “Steve. Steve?” TJ moans and looks around. He doesn’t see the man who rescued him. “Steve!”

“I’m right here, bud.” Steve rushes over and kneels next to TJ. “Hey, I’m right here.” He smiles softly and takes TJ’s hand, who sighs in relief and closes his eyes again.  
\-------------

Steve watches as the man falls asleep, a grimace stuck on the man’s face. Clint paces behind Steve.

“How’s he doing?”  
“Not great. I think I’ve slowed the bleeding, but the wounds are deep. He needs to get professional help.” Steve looks up at Clint, then stands, crossing his arms. “Don’t know who he is either.”  
“Well, here,” Clint reaches into the man’s pocket and takes out his wallet.  
“Barton!” Steve grabs it out of his hands. “That’s an invasion of privacy. You can’t do that.”

Clint lets out a loud laugh and snatches back the blood-stained wallet. “Hmm... Thomas James Hammo– oh shit.” Clint snaps the wallet closed and places it next to TJ, backing away slowly

Steve looks at Clint, confused. “What’s wrong?”  
“This is the first son. This is gonna be a national disaster. Fuck, I need to make some calls.” Clint moves to walk away but Steve grabs him by the arm.  
“President Barrish’s son?”  
“Yeah, what the hell is he doing here? We need to call someone about this. I am not taking responsibility for an injured Hammond.”

Steve sighs. He did not sign up for these types of situations when Fury came to him about the Avengers Initiative. He’s been out of the ice for two months and it has been the longest two months of his overdue life. “Let me call Tony.” He pulls out his radio from his back pocket and dials Tony’s suit extension. “Tony?” He hears the click of Tony answering.

“Not a great time Steve-o. What do you need?” Tony replies.  
“We uh…well...”  
“Spit it out, Cap!”  
“Clint and I have Elaine Barrish’s son. He’s badly hurt and we need to get him help.”  
Tony is silent for a few moments. “Is it TJ?” Steve can hear concern in his voice.  
“Yeah.” Steve pauses, “Do you know him Tony?”  
“Fuck. Okay, I’m heading there now.” Tony’s line goes dead as he hangs up and, Steve assumes, starts flying to where they are.

Steve walks back over to TJ and Clint,the latter of which is perched on the edge of the couch, fiddling with his bow. “Tony’s on his way.”  
“Should he really be flying after what he’s been through? I don’t think you can really bounce right back from almost dying in outer space.”  
“Yeah, well. That’s Tony I guess. He sh-” TJ begins to stir awake and Steve quickly kneels down next to him. “TJ?”  
“Hm?” His eyes flutter a few times before he’s able to keep them open. His eyes focus and shift to Steve. A small smile creeps up the side of his mouth. “Guess I didn’t die yet.”

“No. Why... why would you die?” Steve shakes his head in confusion.  
“Um, I kind of almost got my leg ripped off. Remember?” TJ motions down.  
“Clint’s pretty much controlled the bleeding. We’re trying to find a hospital for you right now. Most of them are full.”

“Do you have a phone, Steve?” TJ looks at him, waiting for confirmation.  
“Here.” He reaches into his pocket and hands TJ his phone.  
“Thanks.” TJ smiles slightly and takes the phone, dialling a number. Steve can hear a voice on the other end of the phone begin to speak, but he can’t decipher what the person is saying as TJ begins to respond. “Dougie? I- yes I’m fine, I’m fi- no, no don’t call mom. I’m okay. I just need help… Well I am fine but I’m still hurt…I can be both!” The voice on the other end, Dougie, starts raising his voice. TJ pulls the phone away from his ear as Dougie continues to yell, eventually holding it back up to his ear. 

“Are you done? You’re the one who told me I needed to go get groceries, Dougie! Yeah, yeah whatever…I just need a hospital. My leg’s pretty torn up…No, I’m not alone. I’m with uh, his name’s Steve. And there's a Clint I think…I don’t know his last name.” TJ looks up at Steve. “Dougie wants to know your last name.”

“Rogers…” Clint begins to laugh, his face going red. Steve hits him hard in the side with his elbow.  
“It’s Rogers. Steve Rogers…What? No, I don’t know. I’m not gonna ask him that…Because it’s rude that’s why! Look, just find me a hospital…Okay, thank you…Yeah we’ll meet you there.” TJ hangs up and hands the phone back to Steve. “Dougie said go to New York Presbyterian. My mom knows some of the doctors there. They’ll get me in.”

Clint interrupts before Steve can answer. “Look kid, the hospitals are gonna be packed. Don’t you have a private doctor or something?”  
“Ha! Yeah, in DC. But unfortunately we’re not there so the hospital will have to do.” TJ makes to stand up but Clint pushes his back down.  
“There’s no way you’re walking on that. Steve, pick him up.”  
Steve looks apologetically at TJ. “Walking will just make your wounds bleed even more. We need to get you stitched up. Can I pick you up?”

TJ shrugs. “Doesn’t look like I have a choice in the matter.” Steve gently takes TJ in his arms. “Ow! Ow ow ow.” He winces at the movement.  
“Sorry bud. Try to relax.”

TJ moans as Steve continues walking and heads outside of the building that had been keeping them safe. “What if those things come back?” His forehead is pressed against Steve’s shoulder and he has his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Tears begin to roll down his cheeks as the pain comes back full force. 

“Tony took care of them. Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to hurt you again.” He rubs his thumb in circles on TJ’s back as he rushes them to the hospital.  
As they near it, they see the chaos around the hospital. The line is out the door; the main entrance is bursting at the seams. Ambulances rush past them with their sirens blaring.  
“How are we gonna get in?” Steve asks, mostly to himself.  
“Dougie should be here soon.” TJ says quietly, his voice strained with pain.

A few minutes later, police sirens near and Steve turns to see a blacked-out limo coming around the corner with four police escorts. It skids to a stop a few yards from them and a man and woman step out. They spot Steve and TJ and run over.  
“Sweetie? Thomas?” The lady comes up and kisses TJ on the top of his head. A younger man lags behind her, having a heated conversation on his phone. He sees Steve looking, and gives him a quick nod.

“Mmmm. Mom?” He looks up at her.  
“I’m here now. Let’s get you some help. Douglas, let’s go.” She motions for them to follow and they walk towards the building, the man on the phone, Steve now assuming is Dougie from earlier, following. Their police escort push the people in line out of the way as they enter the building.

TJ’s mom grabs Steve’s sleeve and leads them up to the front desk, Douglas hangs behind, still talking on his cell phone. “Elaine Barrish. My son needs to see a doctor.”  
“Ma’am there is a line. Your son needs to wait,” the nurse at the desk replies blandly, not looking up from her computer.

Elaine motions of one of the police officers to come over and help them. He walks up to the desk and pulls out his badge. “This is Officer Jacobs, secret service to President Barrish. TJ Hammond needs to be seen immediately.”

The nurse jerks her head up at the mention of the president. “Oh! Uh, yes, of course. Let me get a gurney and we’ll bring him to a room.” She runs down the hall to retrieve a gurney and two other nurses. They bring the gurney over to where Steve and TJ are and Steve carefully sets TJ on it. The two nurses push TJ down the hall and into an elevator. “We’re taking him to an exam now, meet us at Greenberg 14 South,” the nurse calls from the elevator.  
\-------------

TJ’s head is spinning as he’s lying down. The nurses are talking above him but he doesn’t have enough energy to follow the conversation.

“Mr. Hammond?”  
“Mm?” He opens one eye to look up.  
“We have Dr. Latten in the exam room right now. He’s going to take good care of you, sound good?”  
“‘Kay.” He closes his eyes again as they enter a bright room. He hears them put the breaks on the gurney and have a whispered conversation.  
“...Thank you. Tell his family we'll be up shortly. Hello, Thomas.” A cheery voice greets him.

“Call me TJ,” His words come out mumbled but he’s too tired to fix it.  
“Okay TJ. Let’s take a look at you then.” The doctor moves his hands down to TJ’s leg. “We’re going to need to take your pants off to get a better look at the wound. Do you have underwear on?”  
TJ nods and moves to wriggle out of his torn jeans.

Dr. Latten looks him over for other wounds. “Looks like your shoulder has some pretty deep marks. I’m going to bring my assistant in so she can work on those while I work on your leg.” He presses a button on his pager then begins to pour hydrogen-peroxide on a sterile cloth. “Now, this isn’t going to feel good, but I need you to be still for me, okay?”

TJ gulps in fear. “Yeah,” his voice is barely a whisper. He clutches the side of the gurney as the doctor starts cleaning his wounds.  
He blacks out from the pain.

 

“You can’t do this anymore, Thomas! I don’t know how else to help you. I can’t keep doing this.” Elaine begins to sob into her hands. “I don’t want to lose you.”  
“Ma…you’re…it’s not-coz it’s good. We’re good.” The smell of booze is thick on his breath; he has white powder smeared on the tip of his nose. “I’m good.” He reaches to put his hand on his mother’s shoulder but his father, Bud pushes him away.  
“Leave your mother alone, boy. Y’need to leave.” Bud pushes TJ away roughly, who stumbles back and falls against the brick wall behind him.  
“Dad, c’mon! I’m fi-fine. I’m fine! Loosen up a bit.”  
“You’re going to get yourself killed and put our family to shame! Now leave!” Bud helps Elaine stand up and they move to go inside their house.  
TJ grabs Bud’s shoulder. “Wait, c’mon!” He pulls on his shoulder.  
Budd whips around and slaps TJ hard across the face.

 

“No!” TJ sits up quickly; a metal item clanks onto the floor.  
“Honey?” His mother rushes to his side, and puts her hand gently on his good shoulder, guiding him back down. “You’re okay, sweetie. You’re in the hospital.”  
“I…uh.” TJ lays his head back against the pillow and takes in a deep breath. “What happened?”

“You’ve been in surgery. The tear in you leg caused arteries to rupture. They had to fix you up, sweetie.” Elaine runs her hand through TJ’s hair, trying to calm him down. “Your collarbone is fractured too, so you need to be still. They stitched up your shoulder, the wound was pretty deep.”  
“It hurts, mom.” He looks down at himself. His left leg is wrapped in tight bandaging and he has a catheter running down his leg and under the bed rail. His right arm is in a dark blue sling.

“I’ll see if you can have more ibuprofen.” Elaine presses the button to buzz one of the nurses.  
“Ibuprofen? Can I please have something stronger?” He looks up at her with pained eyes.  
“Thomas, you know you aren’t allowed on morphine. I’m not risking another addiction for you.”  
“Mmmm,” he groans. “‘S’not fair.”  
The door opens and one of the nurses walks in. “Hi, TJ! How are you feeling?”  
“Like shit.”  
“Thomas!” Elaine scolds.

“Oh, no worries. I’m sure you’re not feeling great, but unfortunately we can’t give you any more ibuprofen for another three hours. You’ve reached the dosage limit.”  
“Can I please have morphine?” He looks up at the nurse pleadingly  
Elaine cuts in, “sweetie, you know you can’t.”

“That’s not fair! I’m addicted to coke, not morphine! And I’m in pain, please just give me something.” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I just want to go home.”  
“Uh, sir…” the nurse clears her throat. “You’ll be in the hospital for at least three days. I can speak to your doctor and see if there’s anything else we can give you to help relieve some of the pain.” She smiles politely and hastily exits.

TJ looks to his mother and sees her angry expression has deepened. “I better get going.” She heads for the door.  
“No, I-I’m sorry mom. Please stay. I’ll be better.”  
“TJ, I am the president of the United States and we just had a disaster in New York City. I have more important matters to attend to than you.” She leaves and shuts the door behind her.

TJ feels the words like a knife in his already aching chest. He thinks that maybe if his mom had loved him a little more, had payed more attention, he could have turned out differently. If his parents hadn’t put him after his dad’s presidential campaign, maybe he could have been better. Maybe his life wouldn’t have turned to drugs and booze and sex.  
He knows he can’t think like that, though. There are no ‘maybe’s or ‘what if’s in the Hammond household. What happened happened and there’s no changing it.

TJ sighs as he looks around the hospital room. He’s in a presidential suite, so the room is much fancier than the normal hospital rooms below him. This one has a velvet couch and chairs for visitors to relax in. Not that he’ll have any visitors. That’s what he hates most about hospitals. He doesn’t have anyone in his life that cares enough to check in on him. Even when he was in the hospital after trying to kill himself, his mom only visited twice in his two-week stay.  
\--------------

 

“Nat, I’m just entering now. I’ll call you when I’m in the room with him.” Steve hangs up the phone and places it back in his jeans pocket. Entering the hospital door, he goes to the front desk. “Can you please tell me what room Clint Barton is in?” He places his hands on the counter and fidgets nervously.

“And what’s your name and relationship the the patient?” The nurse looks up at him dryly and raises an eyebrow.  
“Um, Steven Rogers. I’m a…friend, I guess?”  
“You guess?”  
Steve nods and looks at the floor.  
“Whatever.... Mr. Barton is in room 548.”

“Thank you ma’am.” He walks directly towards the elevators and presses the fifth floor button. Shifting from leg to leg, he waits for the ding signalling its arrival. Once it comes, he steps in and heads to see Clint.  
Exiting the elevator, Steve comes to a halt as there is a clutter of people almost directly in front of him. “S’cuse me…excuse me,” he pushes his way through but stops once he sees what the crowd is there for. There is a heavy brown door with two men in sleek black suits standing guard. Steve can see that they’re armed, mostly because they aren’t hiding that fact. He shakes his head and continues to Clint’s room.

“Hi Clint.” Steve smiles and closes the door behind him.  
“Fuck me, Rogers!” Clint exclaims.  
“Wha- huh?”  
“A broken ankle! Can you believe it? No injury fighting gigantic space aliens, but a fucking broken ankle tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. This blows, man.”

Steve chuckles nervously, his face turning a shade of pink. “Sorry to hear that. I’m just uh, glad you’re okay.” Steve offers him a sheepish smile. “Natasha wanted me to check in on you. She’s stuck with Tony trying to calm some agents from S.H.I.E.L.D.”  
“Yeah, well, you can tell her I’m fine. I should be outta here soon. Just gotta get the all clear, so…” he shrugs.  
“Um. That’s good, I guess. Are you going to be able to walk?”

“Nah. Gonna have me a nice pair of crutches!” He smiles sarcastically, deepening the smile lines around his mouth. Other than the ankle, Clint just has some cuts and bruises littering his tan skin. Steve figures that’s normal for him, though.

“Well look, if you’re doing okay. I’m gonna go…” Steve trails off, not wanting to be rude. It’s not that he doesn’t like Clint, because he does. It’s just he’s still uncomfortable with the whole ‘you've been frozen for the past 70 years; welcome to the 21st century’ thing. He’s not sure how to interact normally with anyone.

“Nah that’s fine, man. You do you.” Clint shoots him a toothy grin and waves him off.  
Steve quickly texts Natasha the update on Clint and heads back down the hall. As he looks up from his phone, he sees the crowd is gone. The guarded door opens and out walks Douglas Hammond. His hair's a mess and his face has a deep set frown on it.  
“Sir, hold on.” The taller guard puts his hand in front of Douglas's chest and pulls him back. Steve stops as he realizes they’re staring at him.

“Hm?” Douglas looks up and sees Steve. “Oh! No, it’s fine Mark. Steve is the one who brought TJ in.” Douglas’s frown lights and he walks over to Steve and holds out his hand.“I can’t believe I’m meeting Captain America right now. It’s an honor.”.

“Oh, uh, the honor’s all mine Mr. Hammond.” Steve tries to give him a smile. He’s always hated being recognized. He’s still not used to all the attention.  
“Please, call me Doug. Wow, I didn’t think I’d ever get to meet you! I mean, I’ve seen you at some of my parent’s parties but, I mean, wow! Hi.” His smile widens. “Are you here for someone?”  
“Yeah, uh…Well, kind of. I’m just checking in on a friend. He broke his ankle today. But he should be leaving soon…”

“Hey, that’s good. I’m glad to hear it. I was just finishing up with TJ. Do you want to go see him? He’s been raving about you all day. I need to go to work now, but you’re welcome to stay,” Douglas trails off quietly. “I know he’d like the company.”  
“I’d um, yeah. Yeah I’d love to. If you don’t think he’d mind.”  
“Here,” Douglas pushes the guards out of the way and motions for Steve to walk in. As he does, Douglas pats him on the back and walks off towards the elevator.

Steve glances around the room and then his eyes focus on TJ, who is lying in bed fiddling with his thumbs. He has the basic hospital gown on, but the room is unlike anything Steve has ever seen in a hospital. It looks more like an upscale hotel suite than anything. The thick, blood red shades are drawn and the only thing illuminating the room is a bright lamp in the far corner.

Steve clears his throat and TJ looks up at him, startled. “Oh! Wait, Steve?” TJ ruffles around in the covers then picks up a remote and sits the bed up so he’s further upright.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Steve runs his hand through his hair nervously.  
“No, I just thought you were Dougie.” He laughs, embarrassed. “Um, take a seat…unless you were just saying hi. That’s fine too.” TJ looks down at his hands.

“I can stay.” He walks over to the chairs in the corner and pulls one over to TJ’s bed. He sits and is amazed at how soft the chair is. “I’ve never known hospitals to be something of luxury,” he chuckles softly and shakes his head.  
TJ smiles as he watches Steve. “Well, that’s what you get when your mom is the president, I guess. She’s gotta substitute all her love with items and nice things.”  
Steve can see a hint of anger in TJ’s eyes so he changes the subject. “How are you feeling, TJ?”

“Fine. Uh, my leg really hurts. Actually, all of me hurts- but my leg hurts the most.”  
“Can you get more pain meds?” Steve’s face crinkles in concern.  
“Ha!” He tosses his head back in the pillow. ”Yeah, no. Not an option.”  
“They’re not giving you pain meds? Are you kidding?”  
“I uh…I’m not allowed to. Just ibuprofen.” He looks down at his hands nervously.  
“Oh,” Steve rubs his forehead, trying to think of what to say. “Sorry to hear that.”

He looks at TJ and sees he has an eyebrow raised. “You’re not even going to ask why? Really, Steve?”  
“It’s not really any of my business.” He shrugs and meets TJ’s eyes.  
“Um, thanks...For not asking. Ha. Most people usually do. Or I guess they probably already know…” TJ trails off. “Look, thanks for helping me earlier. Expect a gift basket from my mom. She’s into that sort of thing.” He laughs quietly to himself.

“Just doing my job.” He lightly pats TJ’s right leg and stands up. He can see TJ’s expression falter slightly. “Sorry, it’s getting pretty late. Busy day, you know?”

“Of course. Yeah, uh, yeah no worries.” TJ tries to add cheer to his voice, but it’s hard when his whole body aches- and his only non-pitying visitor is on the way out. He reaches out his hand and Steve shakes it lightly. “See you around?”

Steve can see the hope in his eyes. He thinks it may be born of desperation and loneliness. But he doesn’t want to think about what would cause that right now. “Of course.” Steve offers one last smile and then exits the rooms, shutting the door gently.

 

Steve places his sunglasses in his brown leather jacket front pocket and walks into Stark Tower. Even after seeing aliens fall from the sky, Stark Tower has to be one of the most amazing things Steve’s seen thus far. Though he loves the architecture from the forties, he has to admit this building is nice. Though not his style per se, he can still appreciate it.

“Hello Mr. Rogers,” Tony’s assistant of the day greets him as he walks to the elevators. He sees their reflections on the grey floor, shined to perfection. “Mr. Stark is waiting for you on floor eighty-five.”  
“Great. Thank you, ma’am.” He nods her goodbye and presses the button for the elevator.

Once on the floor, he sees Tony is already waiting for him. He has bruises littering his face and arms, continuing past his rolled up sleeves. “Hey there Steve-o! A little late to the party, eh?”  
Steve sighs, “Hi Tony. Can we talk?”  
“Well I guess we already are.” He laughs at his own joke then hops down the stairs to meet Steve. “What can I do for you?”  
“You know the Hammonds right?”  
Tony squints at Steve. “Why? Is this about TJ?”  
“Yeah, kind of. I just- I want to see him again. I get the feeling he doesn’t have a lot of people in his life.”

“Oh Steve, Steve, Steve.” He throws his arm over Steve’s broad shoulders, having to stand on his tip toes to reach. “TJ has anyone in the world he could ever want. Unfortunately, he chose all the wrong people and now his life sucks.”  
“Hm?”  
“Look, Steve. How much do you know about ol’ TJ Hammond?”

“Not much, just what I saw of him today. He just seemed kinda lonely, I guess.” Steve shrugs off Tony’s arm and plops down on the black leather couch.  
“Steve,” Tony’s voice changes to a somber tone. “He’s a good kid. He really is. But I mean, the kid’s a drug addict. And I’m talking heavy shit. He’s messed up.” He briefly glances at Steve to check his reaction. Steve’s face is blank as he stares straight at the wall in front of him.

“What drugs is he on?”  
“Well aren’t you Mr. Forward.” No reaction. “Coke is his main one, but honestly, the kid’s tried everything. Except meth. Not even once.” He nudges Steve’s side and is rewarded with an irritated look. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Maybe I could help him…” Steve trails off, folding his hands in his lap.  
“Ha! How exactly are you gonna help him? His own family won’t even help him.” Tony grist his teeth in anger. “But look, if you want to help, just be a friend. Kid just needs a good friend.”  
“Were you close with him or something? You seem to care an awful lot.”

 

“Oh, uh…” Tony reaches his hand up and runs it through his hair, his face reddening. “You know. Just saw him at some fancy people dinners. I know his dad more than I do him. Stark industries used to be the army’s main weapon supplier. Bud Hammond and I aren’t on good terms anymore, as I’m sure you can imagine.” Tony shrugs off the question and walks towards the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over Manhattan. “I’m really not looking forward to building this back up. Do you think Thor will let me charge the damages to Loki? I think he should.”

“I guess you could ask…”  
“Oh my god, Steve! It was a rhetorical question. You had those in the 40’s right?”  
Steve lets out a long suffering sigh. “As always, it was nice seeing you but I should be going.”  
“I want you to stay but I’m too lazy to beg, so be on you way Mr. America.” Tony shoos him off into the elevator.  
\---------------------

The door opens and, for the first time in three days, it’s someone other than hospital personnel. TJ’s face brightens when he looks up from his iPad and sees his grandma walk in.  
“Nana!”  
“Hello sweetheart.” She smiles and it calms him. Hospitals always make him nervous. Ever since being in one for two weeks after his suicide attempt, he tries to avoid them.

She sits down in the chair next to his bed and takes his hand, being mindful of the IV and wires around him. “How are you feeling, Thomas?”

“A little better. The pain’s not so bad right now. They still won’t give me anything stronger than ibuprofen.” He frowns and looks down at his leg. It’s wrapped in sterile white bandages; They were changed yesterday and he got his first look at the damage. There are four strips of stitches running down his thigh where the claws tore his leg. The doctors told him not to move it as the arteries need to heal and added blood flow could cause more damage.

“You know, your mother’s worried sick.” She lets go of his hand and takes his chin, turning his head to face her. “You need to stop doing this TJ. We can’t handle it anymore. I don’t know how to help you.” She shakes her head solemnly and goes back to holding his hand.

“Stop getting attacked by aliens? No problem there.”  
“Don’t sass me, you little shit. Douglas found Stan with $300 from you. He’s been fired, but I know you’ve bribed security before. Sweetie, it’s not worth it. Why do you keep doing this?”

TJ lowers his eyes and stares at their hands, his cheeks turning red with shame. “I don’t know,” his words are quiet and mumbled. “I don’t like having security. I’m 28, I don’t need it. Dougie doesn’t have them and he’s more important than me!” There’s a low, frustrated growl in his throat.  
“You know why you have security and Douglas doesn’t, TJ. We just want to help you-”

“You won’t even let me go to rehab! How is that ‘wanting to help me?’ Huh? You’re all so embarrassed of me, you won’t even let me get help incase the press gets a hold of it! And now that my hospital stay from last December leaked, there’s no chance in hell you’ll risk a rehab story.” He shakes her hand off and crosses his arm. The IV tugs at his skin and he winces. “Just leave me alone. Please.”

She’s at a loss for words and pushes herself out of the chair. “Here.” She takes a wrapped gift out of her purse and throws it on his lap. “Feel better.” She leaves the room.  
TJ grabs his hair with both hands and yanks at it frustratedly, gritting his teeth together. He pushes the button for the nurse.  
The door opens three minutes later and a new nurse dressed in pastel pink scrubs walks in. “Yes?”

“I need more meds,” he states through gritted teeth. The foot on his good leg taps impatiently.  
She walks to the foot of his bed and picks up his chart, clipped to the metal clip board. “Sir, it says here you had your ibuprofen three hours ago. You still have three hours before I can give you any more.”  
“No! No, I need it. Please, just…just please give me more, okay?” His face is red and he squeezes his eyes shut.  
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll check up on you in three hours and give you another pill if you still need it.” She smiles apologetically and leaves the room.

“Fuck! God, fuck.” He picks up his phone with shaky hands and dials a number. “Pick up, pick up…”  
“Yeah?” A deep voice answers the phone.  
“Don? I need my order now. Can you bring it to me? I’ll pay extra for delivery.”  
“Where you at?”  
“New York Presbyterian.”  
“You’re at a hospital?” The voice comes out loud and TJ winces. “You seriously asking me to risk that for you?”

“I’ll give you an extra $500. Please.”  
The line is silent while the man thinks. “Alright, fine. For an extra $500. I’ll be there in 20.” The line goes dead.  
He waits in frustration for 30 minutes until the room door opens and shuts quickly as Don slips in. He has a black hat pushed down over his eyes and his hood is pulled up for added coverage.

TJ barks out a shaky laugh. “That doesn’t look suspicious at all.”  
“Hey, shut up. I’m doing this for you.” He pulls a tiny clear bag from his pants pocket and hands it to TJ. “3.5 grams there. Like you asked.”  
TJ quickly hands him the money he pulled out earlier and opens the bag, sniffing it carefully. “Wanna do a line with me?”  
“Nah, I gotta go. Not risking getting caught…Good luck.” He scrunches the money up and stuffs it in his pocket and then hastily leaves.

TJ pours out a small pile and uses his credit card to push them into two neat lines. He rolls up a few bills and leans forward to snort the lines. He takes in a big breath through his nose every so often. When the lines are gone, TJ dips his finger into the bag and coats the tip with the powder. He rubs it onto his gums and leans back against the pillow. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and smiles.  
\------------

“TJ!” His door slams open against the wall and he is awoken abruptly as a hand grasps around his throat.  
“What-?” TJ quickly brings his hand to his neck and tries to pry the other hand off, digging his nails into the skin.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Honestly? Honestly just- just what? I can’t figure you out.” It’s Douglas. He sounds tired and hopeless, his voice strained from unforgiving anger. Douglas shakes his head in defeat. “I can’t do this anymore TJ.” He lets go of TJ’s neck and backs away a few paces.  
“I- I don’t know…” He trails off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His head is still buzzing from the high, his heart beat pumping rapidly

“One of the night nurses did your blood test and found cocaine in the sample. How’d you get it?” His eyes pierce TJ and he has to look away, unable to meet his brother’s gaze.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” TJ repeats quietly and begins to fumble with his thumbs.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit! How’d you get it?” He impatiently places his hands on his hips and begins tapping his foot. His hair's a mess from stressed hands running through it.  
TJ weighs the pros and cons of telling his brother and finally gives in. “Friend.”  
“A friend brought it?”  
“Mm.” TJ cautiously eyes Douglas to see his reaction.  
Douglas laughs bitterly. “I can’t even look at you right now. You can’t even go one week without using!”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s called an addiction. Withdrawal- ring a bell? C’mon Dougie, I’m just doing what I need to.”  
“You’re in a hospital, perfect place for withdrawal!” He pauses and studies TJ. “I want you to get help. You know how much I love you, and I don’t want to lose you. Please let me get you some help.”  
“Mon won’t allow it.”  
“I’ll take care of mom.  
TJ starts biting at his lip nervously, “What do you have in mind?”

Douglas walks over and sits on the edge of TJ’s bed by his feet, putting his hand gently on his leg. “I have a friend who works at this really great rehab facility. You can start with outpatient group sessions. It’ll be good for you. Please try it?”  
“I’ll think about it. Once I get out of the hospital I guess.”  
“I’m glad you said that. I talked to grandma and your doctor, you can move in with nana while you’re healing. The doctor said you can go home tomorrow.  
“Oh, um great.” TJ’s face goes deeper red as frustrated tears build up at the corners of his eyes.

Douglas notices and gives him an encouraging smile. “This is gonna be good for you. I promise.” He squeezes TJ’s hand one last time and heads towards the door. “We’re gonna get you better,” he says over his shoulder.  
TJ’s not so sure.  
\------  
Three months later

Steve walks the dark streets in search of a bar. As the rain continues to drizzle down, he decides to go into the next one he sees. It’s in an old brownstone building but the inside is completely new. Flashy lights and thumping bass in the background. Not what he wanted.

“Oh my god, Steve!” He can hear his name called and turns towards the door to see TJ Hammond wearing a toothy grin  
“What’s up man?” TJ throws his arm around Steve’s shoulders and messes his hand through Steve’s neatly combed hair.  
“Uh, hi. TJ. Nice you see you again.” He smiles politely. He racks his brain but can’t remember TJ acting like this. When he thinks of TJ Hammond, he thinks of a lonely man trapped in a life he shouldn’t be in. Not a man dressed to the aces and certainly not this outgoing.

“What are you- I mean, hi! What are you doing here? You drink? I’ll buy you- uh, let me buy you a drink, man.” He grabs Steve’s sweater sleeve and pulls him to the bar.

Steve gently pulls of TJ’s hand and backs up towards the door. “You know, I was actually just leaving.” He doesn’t want to be rude but he has a feeling this isn’t how TJ normally is. He looks him over. TJ’s obviously been drinking, Steve can smell it on his breath. Even in such a dark room, Steve can see his pupils are dilated. So maybe he’s just drunk. He returns his attention to the conversation but his eyes catch something on TJ’s nose. There’s a fine dusting of white powder on his right nostril. Dammit.

“TJ, who are you with right now?”  
“Hm? Oh uh, no one! I’m just hanging. You know? Gotta just party sometimes and no one wanted to go with me. But I had to leave Nana tonight. My mom’s been making me stay with her since the accident but I just need a break!” He’s bobbing his head to the music and sways his hips gently as he talks. His skinny black jeans hug his legs and hips. Steve gulps and looks away.

“Can I take you home, TJ? It’s pretty late.” Steve looks down at his watch. It’s really only a quarter past midnight, but he wants to get TJ out of here.  
TJ’s eyes widen and he stares at Steve with a half open mouth. “You wanna take me to your place?” The corner of his mouth twitches upward.  
“I do, yeah. I think we should leave. Get you in bed.” He motions for TJ to follow him and they exit the building, into the dwindling rain. “I live just a few blocks away, but I can get us a taxi if you want?”

“Nah, I’m good. I like the rain. Feels good, you know?” He looks up at the sky and squints his eyes into the falling rain. Tiny raindrops drip off his long lashes.  
They continue walking in a calm silence. Steve notices TJ wipes his nose on his sleeve quite often.  
“This is my place.” They stop in front of another old brownstone building, with a thick black door. “I’m door 113.” They walk a few doors down and then Steve leads them up the steep flight of steps, unlocking the front door. They step inside and Steve turns on the front room lights. They buzz to life and illuminate the room in a soft yellow.

TJ lets out a low whistle. “Yo, this place is nice, man.” He smiles his wide toothy grin up at Steve and then plops down on the old green couch a few steps away.  
“It’s not much. S.H.I.E.L.D. gave it to me, said I could keep it or find a place of my own. The real estate market isn’t what I remember.” He lets out a huff of a laugh and sits down next to TJ.

“You know Steve, I bet you could come live with me and Nana. We have a ton of extra rooms. Plus she’s got the hots for you!” He slaps Steve on the back and lets out a husky laugh. He then shrugs out of his leather jacket and drops it on the floor in a heap.  
Steve goes to pick it up but TJ pushes him back. “Leave it. I have twenty more.”  
Steve grumbles but lets it go. He’s not used to having clothes just lying around. Even at Bucky’s worst days, he would always pick up his clothes when Steve asked. 

“So, you wanna take me to bed now?” He moves closer to Steve and he can feel TJ’s breath on his neck.  
“Um, sure. If you’re ready. I can get you a snack first if you want.”  
“Nah, not hungry.” TJ stands up and pulls Steve with him.

“Bedroom’s up here.” He turns on another light switch and leads them up the creaky wooden stairs. Opening the first door down the hall, Steve leads them into his room. It’s just a bed and a few bookshelves, but he likes it. He’s hung up some of his drawings and added some christmas lights on top of the dressers. Clint said it would add some ‘holiday cheer all year round’. He’s not sure about that, but he does enjoy them.

He shakes the thoughts off and goes to look at TJ, but TJ has since moved and is lying down on Steve’s bed. He’s taken of his shirt to reveal a chiseled chest. He has a few light brown hairs on his pecs and a happy trail going down from his belly button. Steve can see the vivid scarring from when TJ was attacked in New York; his shoulder has four long scars stretching down to his nipple.

Steve’s mind goes blank and he continues staring at TJ.  
TJ clears his throat. “I get hot when I sleep.” He grins and pats the bed next to him.  
Steve walks over wearily and sits down next to him, leaning against the wall behind him. He figured with a wall already there, he had no reason for a clunky backboard.  
TJ sighs and then sits up. “You’re making this hard! C’mon, loosen up, Stevie.” He puts his hand firmly and Steve's shoulder and gives it a shake.

“Making what hard?”  
“Oh my god! Fine. Fine, I’ll start.”  
“Start wha-” TJ’s lips are on Steve’s. They’re soft and warm and Steve has no idea what’s going on. He places his hand on TJ’s bare chest and pushes him back. “What are you doing?” He backs off the bed and stands up.

“You asked me to bed. Did you…not want this?” TJ’s face scrunches in confusion, trying to hide the look of betrayal that is seeping through.  
“Yeah, I asked you to bed. I didn’t ask you to kiss me, TJ.” Steve shakes his head and crosses his arms.  
“Steve, asking someone to bed is asking them to fuck. Do you really not know that?” He huffs out an angry laugh.

“No! No, I don’t want to have sex with you. I just- it’s just, you’re high and said you didn’t want to go home. I don’t want you out by yourself like that.”  
TJ’s frown deepens and his eyes begin to water. “I didn’t think you were straight. Sorry. I should go.” He stands up and quickly pulls his shirt back on.  
“TJ, you don’t have to leave. I’m sorry, I thought I was being clear. I just wanted to help.”

“Yeah well look where that’s left us.” His voice is gruff and choked as he picks up his jacket and hurries down the stairs. He swings open the front door and heads out.  
“TJ! Hey, c’mon. I’m sorry.” Steve walks onto the porch and reaches after TJ, but he’s already down the stairs.  
“Save it,” Steve hears the mumbles words as he watches TJ walk farther away into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the wait, but here's chapter two. Lots of angst towards the end. As always, thank you to @haelie-theoncoming-storm on tumblr for helping me edit and fix it up!  
> Also, feel free to message/follow me on tumblr @bucky-buchananbarnes. I have no idea how to make links so hope that's okay. Enjoy!  
> Comment/leaver kudos if you want :)

TJ’s eyes fill with hot, angry tears as he storms down the dark street, his hands shaking. He’s not sure if it’s from the drugs or his anger. At this point he doesn’t care. He fumbles trying to put his jacket on, then, in defeat, just keeps it hung over his arm. 

The streets are shimmering with water, the rain having now stopped; He places his jacket on the curb and sits on it. The neighborhood street is silent except for distant sounds of car horns further in the city. He puts his head in hands and lets the tears free fall.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Of course someone like Steve wouldn’t be into you. TJ sniffles and tries to pull himself together; crying isn’t going to help anything. After a few minutes he pushes himself up and tucks his now wet jacket back under his arm. 

“What the fuck,” he lets out in a mumbled breath as he realizes he has no idea where he is. TJ groans and begins to wander the streets. He’s now regretting having run away from his grandma’s house, but too little, too late. Turning on his phone, he calls Dougie in shame. The phone rings once. 

“TJ?” Dougie’s voice is panicked. “TJ, are you okay?” 

“Um...Yeah,” his voice is small and quiet compared to his brother. He was always like that compared to Dougie. Growing up, Dougie was always the loud one, TJ small and shy. Until his parents stopped caring. Then he thought fuck it all. “Please come pick me up.” His voice is shaky; what if his brother won’t help him. 

He doesn’t deserve anything from Dougie at this point. He'd tried the addict therapy sessions but left after a month. Since then he’s been on what the news outlets have called a ‘sex crazed drug rampage’. Sure, he’s being having sex and doing drugs but is it really a ‘rampage’? Come on.

“Of course, bud. Where are you?” Douglas’s voice has lost the anger and has been replaced by concern. 

“I dunno. That’s why I called you. I was at Moonlighters Bar but Ste- um, then I wandered a bit and I’m lost.” 

“God, TJ…” The words come out in a breath and TJ knows he wasn’t supposed to hear. “Turn on your phone tracker and I’ll find you. Just stay where you are.” 

“I will… Thank you, Dougie.” 

“Yeah, no problem bud. Gotta look out for my big bro.” TJ hears a smile in his voice and laughs at their inside joke. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” With that, Douglas hangs up.  
TJ turns on the phone tracker his mom had him install a few years back. 

By the time Dougie rolls up in his blacked out Mercedes, TJ’s hair is dripping from the dew in the night air. His shirt is soaked through, the cold air making his leg ache. Though the wound is healed, he still has issues with it. There’s nerve damage causing him pain and numbness, all at the time same.  
The doors click to signal they’re unlocked and TJ gets in. There’s a towel on the floor so TJ puts it on the seat to avoid ruining the leather. 

“You look like shit, TJ,” Dougie says blatantly. 

“Wow, yeah. Thanks, man.” The brothers laugh and Douglas nudges TJ gently in the side. “How pissed is mom?” 

“Oh, it’s not mom you need to be worried about. Nana’s about to blow a fuse.” Douglas pauses, then asks more seriously, “Why’d you run?”

TJ fiddles with his jacket sleeve, chewing on his wet lip. “I dunno, I just needed to get out. All that security you guys had on me, it was too much. It felt like I didn’t have any freedom.” 

“You don’t have any freedom, TJ! That’s the whole point of keeping you with Nana. You’re not good on your own, we’ve talked about this.” Douglas shoots him a defeated look. “Just let us help you for once. Stop fucking running from every good thing we do for you.”

TJ barks out an acidic laugh. “Thanks for all your help, really. Thanks.” His voice is dead panned as he stares straight ahead. 

The car stops abruptly, sending TJ forward into his seat belt. He twists his head to Douglas, who is not looking at him. 

“You can get out if you don’t want my help.” Douglas’s voice is free of emotion, yet there is bitterness hiding behind his teeth. 

“No, I- I didn’t-” 

“Save it.” 

 

The car pulls into the dimly-lit garage; both men are silent. Douglas immediately takes the keys out and walks into the house, the door hanging open behind him. 

TJ looks over to his other car, gathering dust in its spot. He hasn’t driven it since his mom dragged his unconscious body out of it last December. He wishes they would get rid of it, but his therapist insists he needs to overcome the memory and drive it again. Shaking any further thoughts out of his head, he reluctantly gets out of the car then slowly makes his way into the house.

Entering the kitchen, TJ spots Douglas and their mother having a hushed conversation. He clears his throat and they both spin around, startled.

“Thomas,” Elaine walks over to him and brings him into her arms in a stiff hug. She forces a smile and puts her hands on his shoulders, looking him over. “How are you feeling?”  
He shrugs. “Fine, I guess.” His high is dwindling away, leaving him with an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Elaine gives him a look he can’t figure out. She looks him in the eyes and then drops her hands from his shoulders, turning and heading towards the counter opposite him. “You had us worried sick, do you know that?” 

“Kinda figured.” He notices his brother watching him from the corner of his eye, and it makes TJ feel uneasy. “So,” he pushes himself off the counter and opens the fridge. “Is this an interrogation or something?” Looking at the contents he makes a frustrated sound in his throat. “Really? Vitamin water? Is that all we have?” His eyes shoot to his mom. 

“Yes, is that going to be a problem for you?” 

“It is, yeah. Where’s my Jack or vodka?” His voice is strained and the worry creeps in. “If you don’t gave it back I’m leaving.” He crosses his arms and stares at her impatiently.  
Elaine lets out a sigh. “Fine. You can leave. I’ll help you pack your bags.” She leaves the kitchen and TJ rushes after her, only to find her in his bedroom emptying the drawers on their contents. She throws his clothes on the floor.

“Are you kidding me right now?” He grabs her arm and twists her so she’s face to face with him. “You’re just gonna kick me out?” 

“For christ sake, Thomas!” She pushes him away with a firm hand, hot tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “You said you were going to leave! I’m done chasing you like you’re a child. You either stay and let us help you, or you leave. Which is it going to be? I don’t have time to keep going back and forth with you. Unfortunately for all of us, you’re an adult and therefore I need to treat you like one.” Her breath is uneven as she glares at him, waiting for an answer. 

TJ can only stare at her. He hasn’t seen her this angry since… Since the night he came home from his party. After that, he was left with a bright red handprint on his face and no family. He doesn’t want either to happen again.

“I’m sorry, mama.” His voice is barely audible. With his whole body rattling, he collapses onto the bed and breaks down. His face is buried in his hands as her curls in over his knees. “I’m so-orry. I’m sorry.” He continues repeating these words between loud, uneven sobs. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

Elaine’s hand hovers over his back for a few seconds before she places it on him gently. She leans her head on his shoulder and begins rubbing small circles into his back. “I know sweetie,” her voice is but a whisper. “I’m going to get you help. We’ll get you to rehab.” 

“What abo-about the…” TJ growls in frustration as he can’t get his words out evenly. “The Press.”  
“It doesn’t matter, okay? Your health is the only thing that matters to me right now.” She kisses the top of his head and attempts to pull him up from his slouch. “Can you look at me, Thomas?” 

“Mm-mm.” He shakes his head and keeps his face buried in his lap. Elaine sighs but accepts it. 

“Let’s get you in your pj’s and into bed okay? It’ll be better in the morning. Douglas?” She calls out to him, who is probably still in the kitchen. His footsteps sound down the hall until he’s standing in the doorway, looking at them. “Please get TJ something to wear to bed. He has a pair of sweatpants in his closet.” 

Douglas nods and goes to retrieve the pants. He comes back with a worn pair of dark green sweats. “Here you go,” handing them to their mom; he steps back and waits. 

“Thomas, can you stand up for me, please?” He shakes his head again. Elaine sighs but continues trying. “I’m going to take your shirt off of you, okay? Can you lift your head for me?” 

TJ complies, lifting his head enough for the shirt to be slipped off. 

“Douglas, I need you to help me with his pants.” She hands them back to him then kisses TJ once more. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything tonight.” She leaves. 

“Hey, bud.” Douglas kneels down in front of TJ. “I need you to help me with this, okay? Can you sit up and take those off for me?” 

TJ moans but, with shaking fingers, he undoes the button on his slacks and shimmies out of them. Douglas helps him into the sweats.

“There you go, bud. Let’s get you in bed.” He basically has to drag TJ to get him all the way into the bed and under the covers, but it’s done in less than five minutes. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” 

TJ responds by giving Douglas a weak, unaimed slap. Douglas snickers then exits the room, turning off the lights as he goes. He leaves the door open a crack.  
\----------

Steve lightly tosses the phone back and forth between his hands and he tries to get the guts to make the phone call. Margaret Barrish told him he could call anytime, but Steve thinks it was one of those ‘I’m just trying to be polite because your life sucks’ type of situations. Tony begs to differ. 

“She’s got the hots for you, honest to god!” Tony had told him with a booming laugh. It didn’t make Steve feel any better. 

He finally decides to press call and puts the phone to his ear. His foot taps nervously as he waits for the answer.  
“Hello?” The voice is soft and elegant, everything Steve remembers about Margaret Barrish. 

“Uh, hi. This is Steve Rogers. Is thi-” 

“Steven! Oh, I’m so glad you finally called! How are you, darling?” 

“I’m, well, I’ve been swell, I guess.” Steve mentally slaps himself for his pathetic speaking skills. Ever since waking up in the 21st century, he’s been terrified of making phone calls; he’s never been fond of not being able to see the person he’s talking to. 

“I’m very glad to hear that, Steven. Is there something I can do for you?” Her voice sounds sincere so Steve has to tell himself he’s probably not bothering her.

“Oh, um, yes. See, I was with TJ a few nights ago and he left in kind of a hurry so I was just hoping to check in on him I guess.” The words rush out and Steve’s face goes a deep red at how desperate he sounds. It’s not like TJ and he are friends; he’s only met the guy a handful of times. But he felt a connection with him and, seeing as how TJ tried to kiss him, perhaps it goes both ways. However, that also could have just been the drugs. Steve likes to think the former

“You and TJ were together?” Her tone of voice betrays her shock. “Interesting,” she mumbles the word before Steve can reply. 

“I mean, we weren’t really together. We just ran into each other I guess. But I think I upset him and that wasn’t my intention. I’d like the chance to apologize to him, if that’s okay…”

“Hm. Yes, of course. I think that would do him good. Thomas is in a…facility right now. But I can get you in to see him if you would like.” Steve is surprised to hear it: nothing about TJ that night said ‘I’m ready for rehab’. 

“I’d love to.” 

“Wonderful! Are you close? I can have my driver pick you up or we can meet there. He’s at Seafield, in Westhampton.”

“I can ride my bike there.” Steve sets his phone to speaker so he can mapquest the address. 

“Your bike, Steve? That’s quite far to peddle.” Her voice in full of amusement. 

“Hm? Oh! No, um. My motorcycle. I’ll ride my motorcycle. I’m about 40 minutes away.” Steve looks at the clock on his phone then takes it off of speaker, pressing it back to his ear. “I can be there by 3:30?” 

“That sounds good. I will see you there, sweetie.” The conversation ends.  
Steve heads back to where he's parked and hops on, revving the engine to life. The bike leaves with a squeal of tyres as he accelerates down the busy city street.

He eventually arrives and parks in a shady spot beneath a weeping willow. Inside, he immediately spots Margaret standing at the check-in desk, talking with the man sitting there. Steve clears his throat quietly and waits for them to notice him. Margaret turns around and gives him a sweet smile. 

“Hello, darling. Glad you could make it.” She wraps him in a short, light embrace. “Thomas is in detox right now so you can only visit him for a few minutes. But that’s better than nothing. This guy,” she points her thumb behind her, “didn’t want us to see him at all. But I worked my charm.” She grins proudly.

“Oh, we- we don’t have to bother him. I don’t want to break any rules.” Steve scratches the back of his head awkwardly. 

“Nonsense! I’m sure TJ could use the visitors. Now go on.” She pushes him forward as a lady dressed in all white calls him over to follow her. 

She puts a key card up to a black box on the wall, unlocking the doors into the main facility. “Have you ever seen a person in detox, kid?” She talks to Steve over her shoulder as they walk down the sterile, white hallway.

“Uh, no? I don’t think so.” Back in Brooklyn, he’d seen his fair share of people on who knows what. But he’s never seen them come off it. 

“Well it ain’t pretty. Your buddy here’s having a hell of a time. Make sure you speak softly.” Steve nods. 

They continue down the hall until they reach the last few rooms. The door they end up in front of is locked from the outside. She unlocks it and steps aside to let Steve in. 

He isn’t prepared for the sight in front of him. Immediately to the left as he enters the room is the bathroom. Steve watches as TJ is leaned over the toilet gagging. He hears vomit splash into the water below. A petite male nurse, shorter than TJ, is squatted down beside him.

“You’re doing great, kid. It’s for the best,” the man says soothingly to TJ. He has his hand placed in the middle of TJ’s back. He’s rubbing it in small circles over TJ’s sweat soaked shirt. 

Steve feels helpless as he watches. He knows he shouldn’t be watching. His face flushes red with shame and he turns to leave. 

“Ste… Steve?” TJ groans his name from the bathroom. 

Steve stops in his tracks and cautiously turns back around. “Hey pal,” his voice is quiet like the other nurse suggested. He tip toes over the the bathroom entrance. “How are you feeling?” Steve knows it’s a dumb question. The poor kid’s throwing up for god sakes. But Steve’s never been good at small talk. 

TJ groans again in response. He rests his arm on the edge of the toilet then lays his cheek on his arm. “Wanna go home.” TJ is hunched in on himself, as if he’s in pain. 

“I know, but I’m proud of you for being here.” Steve offers a small smile in support. “Do you want to get in your bed? That might be better than the floor if you’re uh, um, done throwing up.” 

TJ gives him a small nod. “Help me up,” he reaches his hands up to Steve. Steve grabs his hands and helps him up, the nurse pushing TJ up from the floor. With TJ’s arm around Steve’s shoulders, they slowly walk over to the twin bed against the far right wall. Steve gently lowers him in, pulling one of the sheets around him. 

“Can I get you anything?” 

TJ shakes his head. “Steve?” 

“Hm?” 

“Will you sit with me?” TJ smushes his face against the pillow.

Steve gives him a small smile. “I was hoping you’d ask.” He sits in the chair next to TJ’s head, flashing back to when he saw TJ in the hospital a few months ago.

The female nurse clears her throat from the doorway. “Call if you need anything, TJ.” She gives a quick nod then the two of them exit the room.

TJ makes a sound signaling he heard, not raising his face from the pillow. When the door closes, TJ wriggles around in the bed, flipping over to face Steve. “Hi.” 

“Hey, how are you feeling now?” Steve eyes him, amused. 

“Mmm…better I guess. Got a killer headache. Feel like shit. The usual.” TJ offers a small shrug.

“I’m sorry, but I’m glad you’re here…getting better.” Steve watches him; TJ glances at Steve’s hands every now and then. 

TJ sighs and moves onto his back, stretched out. “Wasn’t my idea but I’ll take the credit. Ma wanted me to. I told her I wanted to get better and, well, here we are.” He looks up and makes eye contact with Steve. His eyes are darker than Steve’s used to, but they seem clearer. Steve’s cheeks warm as he realizes how long they’ve been staring at each other

“Sorry,” Steve says guiltily.  
“What are you sorry for?” TJ tries to prop himself up on his elbow but quickly lies back down. “Gonna throw up if I do that,” he mumbles. He rests his arm over his forehead. “Ugh, god I wanna go home.” 

“How much longer do you have?” 

“I dunno. A month maybe? Entertain me, Stevie.” His voice is a playful whine.

Steve freezes at the nickname, body rigid. No one’s called him ‘Stevie’ since…since Bucky went off to war. 

 

It was the night before Bucky was shipped off. Steve was lying in bed with Bucky, their bodies tangled up with each other and Steve’s head rested on Bucky’s sweaty chest.  
“I’m gonna miss you, Buck.” His voice was quiet; they were both too tired to speak at full volume. The moment too calm, too fragile.  
“I’m gonna miss you too, Stevie. But we’ll see each other soon.” He rubbed his hand lightly over Steve’s spine, the whispers of touch tickling Steve’s skin.  
“Promise me you’ll wait for me? Won’t run off with some pretty dame or nothin’.”  
Bucky let out a hearty laugh. “I promise. You ain’t gotta worry about me Steve. I’m with you ‘till the end of the line, remember? War ain’t gonna change nothin’.” 

 

Steve’s brought back to reality by a pathetic shaking of his shoulder. TJ’s too weak to move it much, but enough to get Steve’s attention. His eyes flicker to TJ, who’s sitting up now, though slightly hunched over, his arm wrapped around his stomach. 

“You okay, man? You got all spacey on me. What’s up?”

“Uh.” His throat feels tight, he worries he won’t be able to speak. He clears his throat and wipes his eyes on his shirtsleeve. “I uh, my friend. He used to call me ‘Stevie’. You calling me that just…surprised me, I guess.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. Who’s your friend?” TJ looks at him with concern.

Steve’s voice drops, his words tinged with sorrow.. “His name was Bucky.”

TJ gives him a look of curiosity and slight confusion. “Do you,” he starts off hesitantly, “mean Bucky Barnes?” Steve nods. “Huh. You guys never looked like ones for cutesy pet names.”

“Excuse me?” Steve’s shoulders straighten in defense.

“Oh, no. I just mean, I mean as a soldier, you know? Never thought of tough guys like you having uh- pet names for each other I guess.”

Steve snorts out a laugh through his nose. “Bucky’s a nickname. I’m guessing TJ is too. Or did your mom really just name you with two letters?”

TJ points a finger at Steve. ‘You got me there.” He pauses for a few beats. “Can I ask you something? Kind of personal…”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, you can ask.”

TJ gives him a flat smile, his lips closed. Steve sees him take a deep breath, trying to compose himself for whatever it is he has to ask.

“So uh…is it true you and Bucky were…” TJ squirms uncomfortably in his bed. “You don’t have to answer. Just uh, were you and him- together? I mean, you know, whatever. I just it’s in some ‘history’ books that you guys were a secret couple. But I don’t know. Whatever.” TJ’s face is a deep red. He worries his bottom lip with his teeth. Steve smiles sadly down at his lap.

“It’s in the history books, huh?” His voice is quiet, trying not to let it break. He feels a heavy weight on his chest. He looks back at TJ, earnestly fond. He struggles with what to say, not wanting to hurt TJ anymore than he has but also not ready to talk about what he and Bucky were. “Times were different.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Look, TJ. Even if Bucky and I were ‘together’, it’s not like it could have been if we were together now. We couldn’t go out and hold hands. I couldn’t kiss him whenever I wanted to. He couldn’t hold me and he- fuck.” Steve wipes away the tears that have started to spill over.

TJ grabs Steve’s free hand and tugs him towards the bed. Steve follows weakly and sits right next to TJ.

“It’s okay,” TJ rubs small circles on Steve’s lower back. “You loved him and it’s okay. I’m sorry you couldn’t be what you wanted. I um, had a relationship like that. For different reasons but, you know. I know how much it can hurt.”

Steve sniffles and wipes his nose and his arm. “Why didn’t your relationship work?” TJ stiffen beside him. His voice is wobbly when he finally speaks. 

“He was married. Some jackasses found out and threatened to tell. And then all of a sudden he didn’t love me anymore and I tried to kill myself. That’s the short version but uh, fun times.” TJ lets out a bitter laugh and shakes his head.

“When?”

“Hm?”

“When did you…” Steve gestures at him, not wanting to say the words over again.  
“Oh. Last December. I was in the hospital for about two weeks. My mom’s the one who found me.” TJ’s expression falls and his eyes unfocus. “After it happened, I thought maybe things would be different, you know? Like maybe she’d finally care about me.’Cause she saw how much I needed her. How much I was hurting.” He shakes his head at his lap. “Nothing changed. Maybe for like a week after. Um, yeah. She doesn’t care though. Maybe like, a thin layer, but not deep down. You know? No one really does.”

In that moment, Steve could feel his heart snap in two. He wants nothing more than to hold TJ and never let a bad thing happen again. It was his mission. He wraps his arms around TJ and pulls him in gently. “I care. I swear to god I care.”

He and TJ make eye contact for a few seconds and TJ’s piercing eyes suck him in; Steve swears he can see TJ’s soul, and there's so much pain there.

“Thank you,” TJ mouths at Steve.

For the first time since Steve woke up at SHIELD, he feels like everything is going to be okay for him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait! The past two months have been crazy. This chapter has a lot more angst than the previous two. Also, chapter warning there is dubious consent and a flashback to a suicide attempt. See the end note for what happens in the dubious consent. I am already working on the next chapter so I'm hoping to have that up in a week or two. As always, thank you to @haelie-theoncoming-storm for editing the chapters for me! Follow me on tumblr @bucky-buchananbarnes. And feel free to comment/leave kudos :)

TJ taps his foot impatiently as he waits for his mother’s blacked out Range Rover to pull up to the bleak curb of the rehab center. After almost two months at this place, TJ can’t wait to leave.

His psychiatrist is ‘extremely impressed’ with how well he’s been doing. TJ thinks he’s doing well, but to leave already? He’s not exactly confident he can stay clean. But, he smiles to himself, at least he now has someone to help him.

Steve has been visiting him once a week since he’s been a patient. Sometimes they talk about life, other times they just play mindless board games. He always looks forward to it, though.

They traded numbers a few visits back and have been planning on lunch after TJ’s release. He takes his phone out of his black hoodie and texts Steve.

TJ: Hey waiting for mom to pick me up. Wanna get lunch?

Minutes pass by as he waits for something to happen. His ride ends up arriving before Steve’s reply. Elaine steps out of the backseat after the guard opens the door for her.

“Thomas!” She holds him in a warm embrace and gives him a light peck on his cheek. “We have your room all ready for you. I’m so glad you're coming home.” The guard picks up his two suitcases and loads them in the trunk.

“Now,” she takes his arm and they get in the backseat. “I have a meeting at two today, but Nana will be home all day to help you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Um, Steve and I might be having lunch so…”

Elaine perks up at this. “Rogers? You two really hit it off, then?”

“Yeah, uh, he’s great.” TJ’s phone vibrates in his pocket. 

Steve: I would love to. When and where?  
TJ: Really good cafe on dune road. Eat on the water. Be there in 15?  
Steve: sound good. I’ll get us a table : )

Only once TJ has read Steve’s reply does his attention shift to his mother, who is watching him, clearly amused.

“Sorry, can we go to Hampton Bays? Steve’s meeting me there. He can take me home.”  
“Of course, sweetie. Matthew? Did you hear that?” She calls to the driver.

“Yes ma’am.”

The short ride there is pretty quiet. Elaine makes comments about the scenery; TJ is too nervous to say much. As the car pulls up, his door is immediately open and he’s out of the car. He ignores his mother's scolding as he brushes himself off and walks into the restaurant.

Steve is sitting quietly on a white wicker chair on the patio on the beach and it makes TJ giggle at how small the chair looks in comparison to Steve’s large, awkward frame. He walks over and pulls out the chair across from Steve, sitting down. 

“Hey,” his cheeks warm up as Steve looks back at him, face joyful.

“TJ, hi,” Steve greets him cheerfully. “You look great. Glad to be free?” 

“Ugh, you have no idea. I get to eat real food.” He picks up a bread roll from the basket on the table and starts tearing off pieces. “Thanks for meeting me by the way.”

“Well, I couldn’t say no to our weekly meetings,” Steve gives him a wink. “Even if it’s in a new place. I really do like seeing you.”

They smile at each other as the waitress comes and gets their drink orders. TJ struggles not to look at the alcohol menu and orders a plain coke. Steve gets an iced tea. There’s a comfortable silence between them as they look over the menu.

TJ sneaks peeks at Steve. His blond hair is combed back neatly, not one hair out of place. He admires the hard outlines of muscle coming through Steve’s shirt, which is buttoned all the way up. TJ huffs in disappointment; it’s like this guy is embarrassed about his looks. TJ can’t see why, Steve could honestly be a Greek god or something and, depending on who you asked, he is. 

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hm?” He meets TJ’s eyes over the menu.

“So don’t take this the wrong way, but are you wearing clothes from the 1940’s or are you just trying to copy the style?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at the question and TJ thinks he can see his expression fall slightly.  
“Just copying the style. All my clothes from before are in a museum.” TJ lets out a laugh but Steve remains silent. “Wasn’t a joke,” is his quiet response.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

“Well, yeah. The whole world thought I had died. I guess the landlord auctioned off all of mine and Buck’s stuff. There’s a lot in the Smithsonian. My sketchbooks have ended up in various art museums in Manhattan and Brooklyn. I don’t have the money to waste on buying anything back so…” Steve trails off and looks back at his menu, his expression now cold.

TJ’s nose scrunches in reaction to his confliction. “I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean anything by it, was just asking.”

Steve shrugs, “S’fine.”

“Are you guys ready to order?” The waitress interrupts cheerfully.

TJ eyes Steve then answers that they are. “I’ll have the uh, mussels with the white wine sauce please.” He hands her the menu with a tiny smile.

“Sir?” She turns to Steve who is staring at his lap.

“Oh, uh, I dunno. Just a salad. Caesar please.” He gives her the menu and folds his hands in his lap.

“Of course. I’ll have those out shortly.” She turns and leaves.

TJ’s hands fidget as he takes in Steve’s body language; his posture screams ‘closed-off and shut down as he stares off the deck and out at the ocean. “Steve? I’m really sorry. Honest, I didn’t mean anything by it.

“Forget it.” His smile is stiff and it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I can buy them for you. Whatever you want, money’s not an issue.”

Steve lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Thank you, but I don’t need your pity.”

“No, no it’s not pity. I just wanna help. I mean, it’s the least I can do, for all you’ve done for me.”

“I didn’t do it to get anything from you. Is that what you think?” He abruptly scoots his chair back and makes to get up.

“Wait, Steve! No, fuck. Look, I’m sorry. We can just drop it. I keep fucking things up with you.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m not good with this shit.”

Steve slowly sits back down. “What are you talking about?”

TJ bites his bottom lip and moves it between his teeth. “I like you.” His voice cracks with nervousness. “I just think we could be good for each other and I keep fucking it up. I don’t know what you’ve read about me, but I’m not the greatest with actual relationships…of any kind.”

Steve looks conflicted and hesitates a moment before reaching out his hand (and wriggling his fingers when TJ just looks at him). TJ takes his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just a touchy subject to me, but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Can you forgive me?”

TJ nods. Steve gives his hand a squeeze and lets go; his shoulders relax a bit and he leans back in his chair. “I should’ve ordered more than a salad.” He chuckles and runs a hand through his hair.

TJ lets out a sarcastic groan. “Ugh, I guess I’ll just have to share with you.” He taps his foot onto Steve’s leg under the table and gives Steve a grin.

Their food comes out a while later. TJ spoons a heap of mussels onto a side dish for Steve, giving him half of his bread too. They eat in a steady, comfortable silence, making occasional comments. 

Eventually, their lunch ends and they walk out of the restaurant, TJ leaving a generous tip on the table.

“So,” TJ begins, stopping as they reach the parking lot. “I’m heading back to DC tonight, moving in with my grandma.” The corner of TJ’s mouth turns down.

“That’s good, right?” Steve bumps his shoulder gently with his own.

TJ shrugs. “I guess, but you’re in Brooklyn. I was kinda getting used to seeing you every week.”

“Why can’t we still see each other?”

“Steve, c’mon. That’s almost a five hour drive. You don’t wanna do that every week. I’m pretty much under house arrest, my mom ain’t gonna let me go to Brooklyn by myself. It’s not realistic.” TJ slumps onto a bench, head bowed as he plays with a string on the hem of his shirt. 

“Hey,” Steve sits next to him and gently puts his arm around TJ’s shoulders, bringing him closer. TJ leans his head against Steve’s shoulder. “We’ll figure something out. I’m not just going to give up on this. I’m not giving up on you.” His rests his cheek against TJ’s head. “Did you tell your mom we kissed?”

TJ shakes his head. “Do you know how pissed she’d be if I told her I was making out with you in rehab? She’d have both our heads!”

Steve blushes and pecks the top of TJ’s head. “I can believe that.”

“Do you want me to tell her?”

“That’s up to you. I mean, and don’t take this the wrong way, do you think we’re going somewhere? Or was this more of a fling to you.”

“No, of course not!” He sits up and faces Steve. “I really want this to be something. Me and you. Is that okay?”

Steve smiles softly and genuinely. “Of course. Also, I have an idea that might work. Tony is always offering to help me with whatever. I bet I can borrow one of his jets some time.”

TJ lets out a long groan. “Anyone but Tony Stark, for the love of god.”

“C’mon man. I know he’s a prick ninety percent of the time. But the other ten…Can I at least ask him?”

TJ shifts uncomfortably on the bench. “I gotta be honest with you for a sec. And don’t be mad.” Steve tries to speak but TJ covers his mouth with his hand. “No, just- just let me talk. So, Tony and I kind of have a past. Nothing big, just, we’ve got some history.”

Steve mumbles something under TJ’s hand so he pulls his hand off of Steve’s mouth.

“May I speak now?”

TJ shrugs.

“I don’t care what you and him did in your past.” He takes TJ’s hand. “Okay?”

“Eh. We’ll see.” He stands up, bringing Steve with him. I gotta get back to Nana. We were supposed to leave earlier, but I wanted to see you.” He takes his phone out and texts his bodyguard that he’s ready to be picked up. The SUV comes around the corner a few minutes later.

TJ gives Steve a quick hug. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Of course. Be safe.” He gives TJ’s arm a brief squeeze then watches him get into the car and close the door.

TJ buckles his seatbelt. “Hi, Nana.” He leans over and hugs her around the shoulders. As he sits back she gives him a wide grin. “What?”

“You and Steve seem to be getting along well.” she wiggles her eyebrows at him.

“Oh, yeah uh, we’re good friends now. He’s been great.” TJ returns the smile, though not as enthused as hers.

“You fuck him yet?”

TJ chokes on his spit. “No! God, Nana, what the hell?” His cheeks turn a deep scarlet. “We’re just friends. That’s it.”

“Mmm. Whatever you say, honey.”  
\-------------------

Steve steps onto the tarmac with Tony close behind him. Wringing the strap of a leather messenger bag in his hands, he walks up the small flight of metal stairs and into Tony’s private jet.

“Are ya ready kids?” Tony slaps Steve’s back enthusiastically and ushers him to their seats. “Ugh, I cannot wait to get there. Haven’t been to DC in forever. Thanks for inviting me Steve-o! Of course, you didn’t really invite me, more like I bribed you, but I still appreciate the gesture.” He winks and stretches out in the plush, leather chair.

Steve grumbles at him but doesn’t talk back. Steve’s not sure if TJ hates Tony as much as he says he does or if it’s a joke; he’s nervous to find out. It’s been two weeks since Steve last saw TJ in New York and all he wants to do is wrap his arms around TJ and make sure he’s been doing well.  
Although, he figures he has to be careful how he comes across to TJ’s mother. Apparently TJ still hasn’t told his family about their kiss back when TJ was in rehab. He’s still not sure what he and TJ are, but he’s happy with what they’ve got so far. They’ve skyped a few times in the past weeks. TJ’s always ‘burrito-d’ as he calls it, in blankets, looking warm and soft. His hair never seems to be brushed, instead, a mess atop his head.

During their last conversation, TJ took his shirt off after getting too hot. Steve had had to avert his eyes from going directly to TJ’s scarred shoulder, which (albeit mostly faded) still bring Steve right back to that day. Running up to that man on the ground, lying in a puddle of blood. Memories of the war start to flood his mind when he thinks of it. All those men, most with limbs blown off. At least TJ’s limbs were still attached.

“Steeeevvveee I’m boreeedddd. Are we there yet?” Tony flops his legs on Steve’s lap. 

“Tony, we haven’t even left the runway.” He pushes Tony’s feet off and straightens up. 

“Yeah, I know. But you dozed off. Did you miss nap time, grandpa?” He shows off a wide grin. “Are you excited to see your lover boy?”

“I’ve already told you, he’s not- what you call him. And you can’t mention it around his family! God, I shouldn’t even have told you.” Steve runs a hand over his face, trying to distract from his stress. “Please don’t say anything. I don’t need to be on the United States’ bad side.”

“I got you, don’t worry Mr. Grandpa. Relaaaxx. You know what, I can fix this. Helen!” One of the flight attendants perks up and swiftly walks over to them.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” Steve can hear a faded Czech accent.

“I’m gonna need two glasses of whiskey. And make sure you bring the bottle too.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark.” She smiles politely and walks to the back of the plane, bringing what Tony asked for a few moments later. She presses a button on Tony’s chair and the floor in front of them slides open, a small circular table rising up from beneath it. She sets the glasses and bottle on it, placing two napkins down as well. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you Helen.” Tony pours some of the golden liquid into each glass. Steve picks his up and they clink their glasses together. “Cheers. Now relax or you’re gonna give me a headache.”

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles.

After the plane takes off, Tony quiets down. He’s on his phone most of the time, occasionally laughing at what he calls a ‘meme’. Steve still hasn’t quite figured those out but he at least appreciates the concept.

The pilot comes on the intercom announcing they have thirty minutes left.

“Tony, can I ask you something?”

He looks up from his phone, disturbed by the interruption but says anyway, “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Why does TJ hate you?”

Tony barks out a laugh. “He doesn’t hate me, per say. Just the memories I bring with me.” Steve gives him a quizzical look, so he sighs and continues. “Did you know I used to not always be this charming?” Steve snorts. “Well it’s true! I used to be a, oh, what are the kids calling it these days? A fuck boy, if you will. Party lifestyle. And guess what? So was TJ. I mean, he hasn’t quite left that stage yet, but we were both at our peak at the same time.” Tony grimaces. “Ugh, just, to be frank with you…TJ and I were fuck buddies. And drug buddies.” Steve’s mouth drops open slightly, his expression, he knows, betraying his confliction. But he nods for Tony to continue.

“If anything, Elaine probably hates me more than TJ does. Well, at this point it’s a love-hate relationship with her, but all the same.”

“Jesus Christ, Tony. Why are you coming with me to see them?”

He shrugs. “Bored. Plus,” he straightens in his chair and folds his legs beneath his chair, “it’s been awhile since I’ve seen them. And I have a soft spot for the Hammonds. Bud was one of my biggest clients, until I quit weapons and now he hates me. Not a big loss though. Still a billionaire. Yay!”

There’s a thud beneath them as the plane lands. Tony stands up and stretches. “Just don’t tell TJ I told you any of this. You should have heard it from him. But we all know Steve Rogers is impatient.” He gives Steve a friendly wink and goes to grab his bag and sneak in another sip of whiskey.

Steve is frozen in his seat, processing what Tony just told him. Was TJ really that bad? Tony was over ten years older than him but they still…fucked? Steve’s heart sinks when he realizes he himself is at least sixty years older than TJ-but he can’t think like that. Not if he wants to stay sane. It’s not the same (Of course, it’s no better). With a heavy sigh, he pushes himself up and takes his bag. He exits the plane and heads down the stairs. The scene in front of him makes him cringe slightly. TJ is staring open-mouthed at Tony, who is standing with arms stretched out jokingly and a wide smile on his face. TJ’s eyes dart to Steve and he rushes over to him and takes him in a tight hug.

“I missed you so much,” he murmurs into Steve’s shoulder.

“I missed you too, pal.” He runs his hand gently along TJ’s back, which is damp in the DC humidity. They pull apart from each other and exchange smiles.

Tony clears his throat from behind them. “That was sweet and all but where’s my hug?”

TJ narrows his eyes at Steve. “Why is he here? What part of ‘anyone but Tony Stark’ did you not understand?”

“I know, I’m sorry. But he insisted.” Steve gives him an apologetic look.

TJ waves it off and begrudgingly walks over to Tony, hugging him stiffly. “Nice to see you Tony.” His voice is flat and strained.

“TJ come on, you don’t need to be like that. I thought it was behind us.”

TJ lowers his voice and speaks viciously. “What you did will never be behind us.” He spits out the last words and pushes away from Tony. He stalks back over to Steve and takes his hand. “Let’s get in the car. Mom’s waiting with dinner.”

Steve eyes Tony warily as they get in the limo; Tony slides in after them. Steve puts his arm around TJ’s shoulders and pulls him closer to him, trying to find a way to comfort him. TJ is glaring at his lap, eyes wet with unshed tears.

 

The ride to TJ’s house is silent. Tony tries a few times to speak, but he always closes his mouth before saying anything and Steve is beginning to think there’s more to the story.

The driver announces that they’ve arrived and gets out, opening the car door for them. TJ rushes out, Steve following and then Tony. He keeps his distance as their luggage is unloaded from the trunk.

“Steven!” Steve jerks his head towards the door and sees Margaret Barrish with her arms outstretched for him. He goes over and hugs her gently. “Oh, don’t you do that. You’re not going to break me.” She pats his cheek and offers a smile.

According to TJ, Margaret, or ‘Nana’ to TJ, is the only one that’s honest with him and doesn’t coddle him. He’s been staying at her home during his recovery, as he'd talked it over with his mom and they decided the White House wouldn’t be a good fit for him.

“Thank you for inviting me to your home. It’s lovely.” Steve admires the window baskets hanging off the brick walls, overflowing with vibrant blue and purple flowers, with smaller white ones sprinkled in.

“Always so kind, Steve. And Tony!” She spins around to him, standing awkwardly between the steps and TJ. “So glad to see you. it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” She ushers him forward and gives him a hug.

Tony kisses her on the cheek. “Always a pleasure, Margaret.”

TJ scoffs and pushes past them, into the house.

Margaret scolds him. “Thomas, you know that isn’t going to fly around here.”

“Eh, sorry.” He clearly wasn’t, but nobody was going to fight him on the issue. Well, Margaret might have done. 

Steve follows them in. The entryway is laid-in dark wood, absorbing all the light. The house is magnificent. The paintings catch the artist’s heart in Steve. There’s five of them together on one of the walls. Steve is surprised to find they’re Renaissance style portraits of the Hammond-Barrish family. Steve’s eyes immediately go to TJ’s portrait. He’s sitting on a light, honey-colored stool, with his bare feet on the bottom row. He’s facing the painter, but his head is angled down, focused on a point on the floor. The whole painting has a light feel to it.

“You like it? I bet Nana would sell it to you for a thousand dollars.” TJ teasingly nudges Steve in the side with his elbow.

“I would not! Now come help me set the table.” She calls from the kitchen, causing a laugh between TJ and Steve.

“Oh well,” TJ smirks and leads Steve into the kitchen. He’s surprised to find this room much lighter than the entry room. There are large bay windows looking out onto the patio. Steve double takes, amazed to see such a big outdoor space for a row-home. Of course these are the Hammonds, or the Barrishs he supposes. Half and half.

The dining room table sits by the windows, covered in evening light. Looking onto the patio Steve sees even more flower pots. Margaret must like to garden.

“When’s Dougie and mom getting here?” TJ asks his grandma.

“Oh, they’re about ten minutes out. Just enough time to get everything set. Tony, can you help me with the plates?”

Tony, who had been sitting on the couch in the grand living room, shoots up and goes to help Margaret. Wait, does she actually like Tony? Steve can’t keep up with the family politics going on. They seem to be getting along. Though Tony sure knows when to put on his charm.

Steve turns back to TJ and sees him eyeing Tony suspiciously. “Hey,” he says softly and brings TJ to face him. “What’s going on? Tony’s not that bad.”

“Well, he is actually. So…” TJ shrugs him off and goes to the dining room table to set the silverware around it. Tony is standing at the end of it and TJ shoves him roughly as he passes. “‘S’cuse me.”

Tony stumbles backwards but catches himself. “Are you kidding me?” Tony and Margaret’s yells clash with each other. Her hands are on TJ immediately.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Her voice is strict and angry. She has her hand white knuckling around TJ’s wrist. He tries to pull free but she just tightens her grip. “Sit.” She pulls him down into the nearest chair. “Thomas, is there something you’d like to say to Tony?”

“Yeah. You’re a prick and I don’t want you here.” Instead of looking angry like he was earlier, TJ has put on a nonchalant act. He’s slouched in his chair with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. The only sign of his anger is his tongue pushing against his cheek. He’s giving Tony a challenging look that says ‘you’re move.’

“Uh…” Tony stares at him, then at Margaret. “Can we talk? I think we should talk.” He motions at TJ to get up.

“What? Talk about what you did? Sure, start talking.”

“TJ, please. Can we just talk? Privately.” Tony’s face scrunches in frustration. His eyes dart to Steve in a plea for help.

Steve walks over to TJ and places his hand on his shoulder. “Will you talk to me at least? We can go to your room or something…” Steve trails off as TJ’s glare hardens on him.

“Talk to you about what? About Tony? Huh? ‘Cause what, he’s your BFF and you’ll defend him till the end? Fuck you, Steve.” TJ stands up quickly and stalks off.

“Tha- what? TJ! I didn’t say any of that. I just want to know what’s wrong. I seem to be the only one out of the loop here. I’m not judging anyone.”

“Well you should! Judge Tony, but nooo. Everyone fucking loves him!” TJ is shouting now, his face red with anger.

“You know, I’m right here. Yell at me, not Steve. How could anyone yell at li’l’ Steve-o? Such a go-”

“Shut up! Jesus christ, for once knock it off with the act.” TJ swings open the door to his bedroom and slams it shut behind him. A picture frame falls off its wall and shatters. The house is eerily quiet for the minutes following.

Margaret goes over to the fallen photo and picks it up. “What a shame,” she mutters. “Tony, be a dear and get me the vacuum.” Margaret walks to the butler's pantry in the hallway connecting them to the kitchen and takes out a “do no disturb” sign from a drawer. She hangs it on TJ’s door.

Despite the tense situation, a small laugh bursts past Steve’s lips at the sign now hanging on TJ’s door. He quickly covers his mouth and mumbles a sorry to Margaret, who has an eyebrow raised at him.

The front door opens and Elaine’s voice calls out. “Hello?”

Margaret puts on a smile and says in a cheery voice, “We’re in here honey.”

The click of Elaine’s heels on the hardwood floor precede her. She smiles widely when she sees Steve and Margaret and takes them both in a hug. “It’s nice to see you again Steve. I hope all has been well for you?”

“Great to see you too, Elaine. It has, thank you. I’ve been settling back into Brooklyn.” He gives Douglas a firm handshake and smile.

“Where’s TJ?” Douglas asks, looking around.

“Ah, that would be me.” Tony briefly held his hand up to announce his presence. “I got him a bit riled up.”

Elaine and Douglas look over to Tony and a frown pulls down on Elaine’s face.

“Oh, Tony I didn’t know you would be here.” Elaine walks over and gives him a stiff, brief hug.

“I know, I know. Steve here invited me since I gave him the transportation. Thought it would be nice to drop in and say hi. I haven’t seen any of you since uh…well, yeah. It’s been a while.”

“I see. Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry TJ isn’t feeling up to it. Douglas, please go check on him. I’ll get both of your plates ready for dinner.”

Douglas agrees and enters TJ’s room, shutting the door behind him. Steve, with the others, quietly goes back to the kitchen and begins filling up their plates with food.

“Steve, Tony, how was your flight?” Elaine asks after they’ve all sat down. She puts the cloth napkin in her lap.

“It was good; Tony has a great crew.” Steve looks to Tony, who has his head hung slightly and he’s pushing the food around on his plate.

Everyone glances at Tony, but no one says a word. Instead, they continue small talk with each other. Steve tells them about reacquainting himself with Brooklyn, about the brownstone he’s in. He tells them about this nice coffee shop he found, that he likes to go and sketch in. Tony chimes in with sarcastic comments and Steve holds back his defense.

 

Eventually, Douglas and TJ emerge from the bedroom, the latter red-eyed and reserved. They take the two remaining chairs next to each other and begin eating dinner. Elaine reaches across the table and gives TJ’s left hand a comforting squeeze.

“Sorry for pushing you Tony. I think it would be good if we talked later.” TJ’s words come out forced and rehearsed. He doesn’t look up from his plate as he speaks.

“Sounds good,” Tony responds.

Elaine and Margaret start conversing with each other while the three men sit in awkward silence, Steve unsure of whether to try and help or stay silent.

He clears his throat after a while. “Elaine, Margaret, thank you for dinner. It was great to finally have a nice home cooked meal.” They both smile at him. “That being said, I should be going.” He stands up and TJ’s head perks up.

“Whad’ya mean?” TJ quickly stands up and goes to stop him. “You don’t need to leave. Why would you leave?”

“I think you and Tony need some time to talk. I don’t want to interrupt. I’ll see you later though?” Steve gives him a small smile and heads to the door.

“Wow.” TJ turns back to the table and faces Tony. “See what you do? You just love pushing people away, don’t you?” He scoffs. “Typical.”

Tony finally breaks. He shoots up and strides over to TJ, pointing a finger at his chest. “Look, I know I fucked up but you don’t have to keep reminding me every ten fucking seconds. The only person who ruined things here is you.”

“Me? Oh my god,” TJ laughs in disbelief. “You’re too much sometimes.”

“Would you knock it off?” Margaret pushes herself out of her chair and grabs Elaine’s arm, moving them to the front door. She motions for Steve to follow them. “Thomas, you talk it out with Tony. I’m tired of hearing you yap about it. Steve, let’s give them some space. I’ll go buy as all some ice cream.”

Steve looks from Margaret to TJ, who has his mouth slightly agape at his grandma. “I’ll see you uh, later I guess?”

TJ just nods.

 

TJ sets the bottle of Vodka on the counter and opens the garage door with shaky hands. He stumbles, trying to walk down the three stairs, his vision too blurry to see straight. Once down, he gets in his car and gently closes the door, opening the driver and passenger windows. Turning the key in the ignition, the car starts with a soft hum.

He grips the steering wheel and lets the whole-body sobs take over. Leaning his head back on the head rest, he shuts his eyes tight as his body shakes. He thinks of what Sean said to him, cutting into him like knives. Nothing, it meant absolutely nothing to him. Years of thinking he had finally found someone he could spend his life with, and it amounted to nothing.

His mother wouldn’t care. Why would she? She wanted nothing to do with him. He was a disappointment. He’d be solving all her problems by being gone. He would no longer be the stain on his family’s crisp name.

Tony’s ringtone startles TJ, but he answers it with heavy hands. “’lo?”

There’s music blaring in the background; TJ pulls the phone away from his ear. Tony’s voice is muffled. “-party! You gotta come!”

TJ can’t string enough words together to speak. He stares ahead of him, his vision going in and out.

“Teej! Yo, you okay? Hold on.” The music fades out. The phone is silent. TJ can hear shuffling and then Tony’s voice. “You gonna come or what? I had to pay like a thousand dollars for this. Get down here.”

TJ chokes out a sob. “I really need you. Please.”

“Dude, what are ya talking about?” His words are slurred. “Come party! It’s so hot man, there’s a solid ten here with your name on it. Looks like the kind to fuck you sideways and make you breakfast in the morning!”

“Please come help me.” His voice is pleading but he’s too tired to keep speaking. He closes his eyes and leans his head back again. It’s a lost cause anyway. No one’s coming for him. He’s going to die alone, but it’s for the best, he figures.

“Hello? TJ? You’re missing out.”

The words fade out as TJ loses consciousness.

 

“TJ, come on! You’re being ridiculous.” Tony grabs TJ’s shoulder and twists him back to his direction. “Why can’t you let this go? I care about you. I want to be your friend again.” His eyes are pleading.

“Because you left me! Everybody fucking leaves. I needed you, and you fucking left me! How am I supposed to forgive that? Huh? You, you got to go live your life and party and just drop me when I was no longer useful to you!” Tears are now rushing down TJ’s face. His body is shaking as his anger continues to grow into rage.

Clenching his jaw, TJ tries to calm down. His voice is unsteady when he speaks, confusion and pain overtaking. “I thought you were my friend…” he pauses, his brain, even now, trying to comprehend what happened, reliving the memories. “But then you left.” His body shudders, as if saying those words physically pained him. “You just left me,” it comes out as a whisper, speaking only to himself.

“TJ-” Tony steps forwards.

“Don’t,” his words are rough and cold. TJ looks over Tony. “Oh, fuck,” he balls his hands into fists and rubs his eyes. “I need a drink. Pour me something strong.”

Tony does a double take. “That’s it? You’ve been yelling at me all day and that’s it?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Now get me a drink.”

Tony squints his eyes with suspicion. “I thought your house was clean now.”

“Oh, it is. But I know you’re not. You’ve always got something on you. So what’d you bring me?” TJ waltzes over to Tony and grabs his tie. “I need a drink.”

Tony gulps, seeing he’s cornered in this situation. He jerks his head in the direction of the guest room he’s staying in. “I have a bottle of vodka and one of whiskey in my suitcase.”

TJ gives Tony a look that makes him feel uneasy. “Perfect,” his voice is full of mischief. He goes to Tony’s room and pauses when he sees Tony hasn’t moved. Without turning around, he asks, “Well, are you coming or what?”

Tony says a quick prayer for forgiveness before stepping into the room with TJ. He’s already kneeling down on the floor, rummaging through Tony’s suitcase. He pulls out the vodka bottle and opens the cap. He takes it over to the en-suite and takes out two glasses from the cabinet.

“Wanna do shots or what?”

“TJ we really shouldn’t do anything. Steve says you’ve been doing really well.”

“For fucks sake!” He turns to face Tony. “The one time I actually wanna do something and suddenly that’s not your thing anymore?” He’s tightly gripping the counter where the glasses rest.

“I know how to control myself. You don’t.”

TJ scoffs under his breath. “That’s never stopped you before.”

Tony reaches his limit and gives in, planning to prove a point to TJ. “Alright, fine Mr. Salty. Let’s drink.” He takes the bottle and pours the liquid into four shot glasses. “Drink up. Whoever finishes the most wins.”

“Oh, you’re on.” He picks up his first shot and downs it in an instant. Tony follows. They have their eyes on each other the whole time, hate and lust and anger filling them, fuelling them.

They continue until the whole bottle is gone, their visions blurred and minds hazy. Tony finds himself pressed between TJ and a wall, their bodies flat against each other. He reaches between them and cups TJ’s face, moaning when TJ slides his tongue into his mouth.

They stumble backwards together until they fall onto the bed, laughing drunkenly. TJ pulls their shirts off and begins kissing down Tony’s chest.

Tony smiles in his haze and thinks all is right in the world.

 

“Steve c’mon big guy! It’s not like that!”

TJ wakes abruptly, hearing a struggle. He shoots up and sees Tony struggling against Steve, who towers over him.

“He was drunk! You got him drunk! How is that okay in your mind?” Steve’s voice is quiet, as not to draw anyone from outside the room in. His hands aren’t on Tony but his body blocks him from leaving the corner he’s been pushed into.

“No no no no no, I was drunk too! It’s okay. We were just letting off some steam.” Tony brings his hands up in defense.

“You’re unbelievable.” TJ realizes Steve is bringing his fist back. He scrambles forward on the bed and grabs Steve’s arm.  
Steve jumps slightly and snaps his head to TJ. The color drains out of his face. “Oh my god, are you okay?” He places both hands on TJ’s shoulders, stabilizing him as his brain catches up. His hangover creeps in. “Did Tony hurt you?” Concern brings Steve’s mouth down into a frown, his eyes crinkling.

“No, god no. Steve I’m okay. We knew what we were doing. Honest.” TJ pushes him back, so he can give Tony more room. Tony takes a deep breath of relief and sits back on the bed, running a hand over his face.

Steve’s face twists into something that makes TJ’s stomach drop. He looks between TJ and Tony then states, more than asks. “You wanted this.”

TJ nods.

Steve bites his bottom lip, his face going blank. “I see.” He straightens up and exits the room.

“Wait!” TJ pulls on his underwear and chases after Steve, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. He grabs Steve’s shoulder and tries to twist him around. Steve holds his ground and remains facing away, within reach of the front door.

“Steve, c’mon. Please don’t be like that. I shouldn’t have slept with him I know I’m sorry. Just pl–”

Steve faces him. “You think I’m mad about that?” His body language is defensive, keeping space between the two of them. “I don’t just care who you sleep with.”

This makes TJ stop in his tracks. He looks up to meet Steve’s eyes. “Why are you mad then? I don’t understand.”

“TJ,” he says it in a sigh. “I tried so hard to help you. And I thought I did help you. But I leave you for, what, a few hours? And you’re back to getting wasted with Tony. What am I supposed to think about that?”

TJ looks taken aback. “You think you’re the only reason I got sober? Are you seriously that self-righteous?”

“No, that’s not what I mean! I just thought you were serious about getting sober. And clearly I was wrong.”

TJ’s face glazes over. “Get out,” his voice is eerily quiet.

“What?” Steve takes a step forward.

“Get out!” He raises his voice, looking agonized as he screams the words. “I don’t need another person like you in my life! You think it’s that easy?”

Steve looks dejected as he stands there, at a loss for words as TJ seethes at him.

“God, you’re just like my mother! You think all it takes is a caring hand and suddenly, all better! Is that it, Steve? Am I like some withering flower to you? All you gotta do is add some fucking water and it’ll be okay. ‘Cause I have enough people like that already. I don’t need you to add to it.” TJ’s completely hostile at this point, his eyes piercing with anger and dejection.

“Thomas?” His grandma comes running in from the patio. “Thomas what’s going on?” She steps between Steve and TJ, frantic with worry.

TJ stabs a finger at Steve. “He needs to go. I’m done with him.”

Steve is hopeless in the situation. With sad eyes, he goes to the front door and opens it. He hesitates but turns back to TJ and his grandma, who has a caring arm around his shoulders. “I’m sorry. And I know it’s not my place anymore but Tony isn’t good for you. I can see that now. I’m sorry I allowed him to come.”

TJ doesn’t say a word to him, just stares.

“I hope we can work past this, TJ. Thank you for having me,” he says to TJ’s grandma.

She gives him a weak smile. “Come on sweetie, let’s get you dressed,” she ushers TJ back to his bedroom, leaving Steve standing in the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dubious consent is between TJ and Tony. TJ breaks his sobriety and gets drunk, challenging Tony. They end up having sex. Both of them are drunk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve reflects on his situation, bringing up the past along the way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I think you guys are really gonna like this chapter. It's all from Steve's pov and really goes into his character. I am hoping to have the next chapter up soon, but I start my freshman year of college this Wednsday. So we'll see when that actually happens :p  
> Follow me on Tumblr: bucky-buchananbarnes.tumblr.com  
> Beta for the story: haelie-theoncoming-storm.tumblr.com  
> Also, I keep forgetting to write this, but the title comes from the song Quake by Balance and Composure. It's a great song for TJ in this story.

Steve wanders the streets until the sun has gone down. He gets a room at a hotel not too far from where TJ is staying. He can’t have ruined things yet; TJ’s too important to him. Steve figures he’ll give it a day or two and then try talking TJ down again. He’s not going to let Tony ruin this for him.

Settling into the too-fluffy hotel bed, he takes out his laptop as a distraction. Pulling up Netflix, he begins a documentary on 'strange animal friends’. God, how he wishes this was around in the forties. Bucky would have loved it.

His mood darkens even more, that familiar twinge of guilt appearing in his stomach. As much as it was overwhelming to Steve most of the time, Bucky would have loved the future. Though Steve thinks he’d be disappointed the Starks never made that flying car Howard always talked about.

Of course, if Bucky were here, Steve wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. He and Bucky would have found a nice house out in the country, left S.H.I.E.L.D. behind, and they’d be happy, finally able to enjoy the slower things in life. A laugh escapes Steve’s lips as he realizes he’s describing retirement.

Maybe that’s what he should try. Or try again. He’d had it until Fury came and put him back in the action with The Avengers. It had led him to a few friends, but he’d rather have friends that weren’t assassins and gods. 

Steve belongs with dock hands and nurses and just average people. Not fighters. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. He just wants someone to be happy with. Of course that’s too much to ask for; fights follow Steve wherever he goes, or he follows them. His mother had always told him he was a hot head, needed to calm down before the stress made him even sicker.

*** 

He tried to keep hold of his temper when his mother got sick. He wanted to be there for her, to stop coming home after fights, always in a right state. Steve’s heart ached as he saw her face- always falling when he shows up covered in bruises and scrapes, Bucky dragging him in the door, fists still swinging. She was always the one who had to put him back together.

And after his mother was no longer able, Bucky would clean him up. He’d place his hand gently on Steve’s thigh as he took a wet cloth to his bloodied face. When it was all done, Steve would get a stern talking to that always ended in a kiss.

When it got too heated between them, Bucky pushed Steve away with a laugh and called him a punk. They always had to be careful, had to keep quiet, so as not to let his mother hear. Steve believed she would love them regardless, but the thought of telling her still scared him.

Bucky’s sister, Rebecca, walked in on them once when Steve was sleeping over; they were fourteen and the feelings were still new. Bucky and Steve had always loved each other, but now they had new ways of showing it. Rebecca said she wasn’t surprised, that she ‘wouldn’t tell nobody’. Bucky thanked her then told her to buzz off. She had stuck her tongue out and ran out of the room, leaving the door ajar. 

“Loser!” Bucky called after her. He got up with a sigh and gently closed the door. He grabbed at the bulge in his pants and shifted it with a groan. “Gotta get myself a new pair of pants or somethin’. These don’t fit like they used to.”

Steve looked at his friend and bit his lip. “I can spare you a penny, maybe. I’ll ask my ma.”

Bucky’s face warmed with endearment. “Nah, don’t worry about it, Stevie. Dad gets paid end of the month, I’ll ask him then.” He sat back down, his leg touching Steve’s. “So… did you wanna keep goin’? I told you, Johnny next door told me this move to try. ‘Course, it’s to try on a lady, but I’m sure it’ll still feel good.”

Steve nodded, nervous to speak: his voice had been cracking lately, going all pitchy on him. Bucky knew, and placed his thumb on Steve’s chin before giving him a smile. “You know I ain’t gonna judge you. Same thing’s been happenin’ to me, just started before you. You remember?” Bucky saw Steve’s face drop in disappointment. “C’mon Stevie. It really ain’t that bad. Happens for a few months and then you’ll sound hot as fuck.” He gave him a wink. “Now can I kiss ya?”

Steve nodded enthusiastically and, in Steve’s small life thus far, it was the best kiss he had ever gotten.

 

***

 

The next morning, Steve stares up at the ceiling, teary eyed. Since coming out of the ice, he hasn’t had time to think much about Bucky and what their life could have been. Of course, even had both survived, and lived after the war, would it have been much of a life? They’d have had to keep it private or run the risk of getting beaten.  
But they could have been happy, the two of them. Bucky was still getting used to Steve’s new body when he fell, but it could have worked; he feels it in his bones. Steve was still Steve and Bucky was still, well...Not quite Bucky.

He had known he wasn’t. Bucky had been different from the moment Steve found him in the Hydra prison, laid out on that metal slab. He no longer let Steve touch him the way they used to. He wouldn’t wear the same clothes (no more hats), and there were times in their tent Steve would look over and Bucky would be zoned out, fingers trying to grab at something that wasn’t there.

Steve’s body felt heavy as he let the emotions flood in. He and Bucky never had a chance. And now he and TJ were doomed. He had no one; not even Peggy. She would give him a slap on the back of the head and tell him to get his act together. Probably drag him to TJ’s house and make them talk it out. She’d never had time for beating around the bush and Steve loved her for it.

Maybe Natasha would be a friend to him; she seemed nice enough. He takes his phone out of his pocket and looks for her number. Hesitating for a moment, he calls her, palms sweating. The phone barely gets through a full ring before she picks up. 

“Steve?”

“Oh. Hi.” His mind goes blank: he’d been half hoping she wouldn’t actually pick up. He rubs a corner of the pillow between his fingers as he anxiously searches for something to talk about.

“You know,” her gravelly voice chimes in, “generally, if a person doesn’t have much to say, they text. Not call.” She’s criticizing him, but in a fond way. Steve can picture her raising her perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, I just uh. It’s been rough. I don’t really know who else to call.” His voice is quiet. He mentally curses himself, hating how pathetic he sounds.

“Hm. Look, Clint and I are going to dinner right now. You want to join?”

“I’d love to. But I’m in Washington right now. Another time?”

“Of course.” There’s a smile in her voice. “Wait, aren’t you with Tony?”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, anger rising in him again. “Yeah. Didn’t go well.”

“Oh, it never does with him. What did he do this time?”  
“I don’t know, Nat. It’s not for me to say.”

Steve can hear shuffling in the background and muffled cursing until– “Steve! How ya doing man? It’s Clint. You’re on speaker phone. Please tell us what Tony did. I feed off of his mistakes.”

“He uh, well, do you remember TJ? The guy who was all cut up in New York?”

“Yeah, of course. I could never forget a chest like that- ow! Steve, tell Nat to stop hitting me,” Clint whines. “Ugh, anyway continue. What about him?”

“Well, TJ was really pissed at Tony. I guess they have a not-so-great history. Anyway, Tony thought it would be a good idea to get him drunk and then they slept together. And TJ was trying to get sober.”

Clint lets out a long whistle. “Fuck. That uh, really sucks huh? Want me to kill him? Tony of course.”

“If you don’t, I will.” Steve hears Nat say.

Clint says all too enthusiastically, “I called dibs! I called it.”

“No, er thanks though. I just need to figure out what to do. TJ won’t talk to me right now.”

“Why, what’d you do?” Clint is starting to sound too invested in this; maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to call them. Of course, Steve had only wanted to call Natasha.

“Nothing. I mean, well, I didn’t mean to do it.” Steve begins to rant. “My wording was just off. But I pissed him off because he thinks I thought I was the reason for his sobriety, and all I wanted to do was help him.” Steve puts his face in his free hand and groans at the situation. “I just really messed up.” 

“Just go talk to him, Steve,” Nat cuts in. “Best thing you can do is explain yourself. And tell Tony if he does what he did again, I’ll cut his balls off.”

Steve chokes on his spit at the threat. “Um, I’ll let him know… I should go. Thanks guys, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Bye Steve!” The line cuts out.  
Steve stuffs the phone back in his pocket and stands up. “Screw it.” He fishes a grey hoodie out of his suitcase and leaves his hotel room. He heads out into the cool night and walks to a bar the receptionist had mentioned when he checked in the day prior. 

It’s a short walk there from his hotel. Everyone out is wrapped up in scarves and their Fall jackets. A man passes Steve in a blue and grey checkered trench coat; he adds it to his mental list of things he needs.

His breath forms a cloud in front of his as he walks. He knows it’s cold out, but it doesn’t bother him since leaving the ice; the sleeves of his thin hoodie are rolled up top his elbows. He remembers he bought this outfit online with TJ during one of their late night Skype sessions.

TJ had told him he needs to embrace the twenty-first century and stop dressing like a ‘grandpa’. The blue jeans hug his legs and waist. That’s the one thing he despises about the new fashion sense: all of the clothing is tight, even the shirts. Muscle shirts seem to be the new menswear. He was shocked going into his first mall and seeing a whole section dedicated to these ‘workout’ clothes. Did guys really wear these on a normal day? He'd thought for sure it was only worn at the gym. Bucky and his friends would never have gone out on the town in their dock clothes.

But, of course, Steve was wrong. He sees people in these clothes all the time. Even at restaurants! Steve shakes his head at the thought; his mother would have given him a spanking if he went to dinner dressed like that. Maybe he should find a nice pair of khakis. Not dress pants, as he really is trying to assimilate. He’s tired of sticking out like a sore thumb.

He reaches the bar and goes in. It’s not too packed and the only music is a man playing piano on the small stage in the back of the room. The lights are dimmed, setting a nice mood. He takes a seat at the bar and orders a rum and coke. He’s become fond of the drink in the past few months. The bartender gets him the drink after a few minutes and Steve begins sipping it slowly. There are people on both sides of him.

The man to his left appears to be on a date with the woman sitting next to him. They’re talking quietly with each other, their arms pressed together. The woman notices Steve watching, so she smiles at him. He returns the smile then looks away, blushing. ‘People watching’ had been a hobby of his when he was too sick to actually do anything. It had given him inspiration for his art when he was younger.

“Excuse me, sir?” The woman reaches over and taps his hand.

He looks up. “Hm?”  
She asks excitedly, “Are you Steve Rogers?”

Steve tries to hide his disappointment. It’s not that things like this have ever gone badly for him, he’s just not used to being ‘famous’. He wishes he could still disappear into the background. Especially on nights like this. “Yeah, I am.”

“Oh my gosh! Can I take a picture with you? I’m such a huge fan. What you did in New York was amazing.”

“Oh, thank you.” Steve feels his face heating up. He’s never been good with praise. Especially after becoming Captain America. He wanted to help and make a difference but to most, he was just seen as eye candy. “Um, okay, yeah. We can take a picture.”

He walks over to her. She hands her boyfriend her phone and he gets ready to take a picture. She pulls him over, putting her arm around his back. He puts his arm around her shoulders and leans down to her level. He smiles as best he can as the camera flashes a few times.

“Thank you so much,” the man reaches out his hand and shakes Steve’s. “She literally loves you. I think, sometimes, more than she loves me.” He laughs so Steve lets out a small laugh too. Fuck, he hates small talk.

“No problem, have a good night guys.” He waves and goes back to his seat. He puts down a twenty and leaves. The air is too hot as he walks quickly down the dark street.

His hands and legs start to shake. He has to sit down, unable to concentrate. His breathing picks up as he curls in on himself, back pressed against a dirty wall. He rests his head between his legs, trying to slow his breathing. He can feel his body continue to shake as tears begin to form and fall from his eyes. He takes in a deep, shaky breath and counts backwards from ten. Am I having a panic attack?

His mind is racing. He tries to concentrate but he can’t. He thinks back to what Bucky would tell him during any kind of attack he had: panic or asthma.

“You gotta concentrate for me, Stevie. Take a deep breath, there ya go. You’re doing great, bud. Just keep breathing. In your nose, out your mouth.”

He leans his head back against the walls and does just that. In through his nose, out through his mouth. His eyes are shut tightly, trying to stop the tears. He’s gotten it down to just his hands shaking and quickly tapping his left foot.

“Hey. Hey are you okay?” He senses the speaker standing in front of him and wearily opens one eye.

There’s a small woman there, down on one knee, looking at him with concern. “Are you okay, sir? I’m a nurse if you need medical attention.”

Steve shakes his head stiffly. “Fine- I’m fine.” He knows his body doesn’t reflect his words. He continues trying to steady his breathing, his head throbbing.

He sees her still watching him, studying him. “Panic attack?” She asks. He nods. “That sucks. Want to talk about it?” She sits down a few inches away from him.

“If I do, it’ll just bring up the same problem.” At this point he has regained some control of his breathing. He takes in deep, shaky breathes, his foot still tapping.

“You know, I didn’t think Steve Rogers could get panic attacks with that serum.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well. I’m not perfect.”

“Oh, god, of course you’re not. In fact, I think you’re pretty messed up.”

He turns to her and sees her smirking at him. He raises an eyebrow. 

“I’m sorry, but anybody who’s dream it is to go to war is pretty messed up. To have a nation look up to a war hero… Personally, I don’t get it.” She shrugs.

He takes in another deep breath. “Fair enough–”

“Plus,” the words are out of her mouth before he ends his sentence. “It kind of seems like it’s driving you to insanity. So that’s gotta suck for you too. I can’t imagine waking up and hearing all my friends are dead and seventy years have passed.”

“Wow, so helpful. Thanks for that.” He makes to get up but she puts her hand on his arm and stops him. “Sorry, I just figured you wouldn’t want to be coddled. My oldest brother is in the arm and my god, did he have a field day when Captain America was revived from the ice. He hasn’t shut up about you since. If you want though, I really can help you. I was serious about the nurse part.”

“I appreciate it. But I should get going.” He stands up slowly, making sure his legs don’t give out, and offers his hand to help her up. She takes it. She runs her hands over the front of her dress to straighten it out. “Going somewhere special?” He asks her.  
“Hm? Oh, no. Well I was. But not anymore… My date stood me up. So, just heading home.” She lets out a grim laugh.

Steve gets that familiar angry feeling in his gut, like a rubber band stretched too far. “He stood you up?”

“Mhm.”

“Where’s he live? I’ll kick his ass for you.”

“Ha! Oh my god!” She doubles over laughing. “Captain America kicking Ian’s ass. Ugh, I would pay to see that.” She pats his back. “You’re a good dude.”

He gives her an appreciative smile. “Do you want to get dinner or something? I’m paying.”

“Really? I’d love to! Can I choose the place?”

Steve nods and smiles at her. Maybe this is all he needed: someone to help; Or just a friend. He shouldn’t even be thinking of romance right now. He’s not in a place to be in a relationship. Maybe he isn’t ready to be with TJ in the way he had wanted.

“Great, okay so Ian and I were gonna go to this really good rib place. It’s called Rocklands Grilling if you’ve ever been there?”

“Never heard of it. But I’m sure it’ll be great. Lead the way?” He swipes his hand out to let her start walking. He think she must have misread the situation because she takes his hand and starts walking, swinging their hands between them. 

She must notice his apprehension because she says, “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to fuck you or anything. This is just more fun. I don’t want you following behind me. I’m Nicki by the way.”

“I see. Nice to meet you, Nicki.” His nerves start to bubble up again but he does his best to remain calm, cool, and collected. He hasn’t actually hung out with someone in…he can’t remember the last time.

This should be fun.

 

Being honest with himself, Steve did enjoy his dinner with Nicki. By the time they got to the restaurant, the dinner rush had ended and there was just a small crowd still by the bar.  
Nicki told him more about her brother. He was a Lieutenant and on his fourth tour in Afghanistan. Steve admitted he didn’t think he would be a good modern soldier. Plus, if he were born in this century, he doesn’t think he would have had serum. Though maybe he would have been born healthy. His mother would have a nice job at a nice hospital and they’d live in a cozy brownstone. 

Steve has to stop these thoughts before they form any further. As much as he loves it, he can’t think of would could have been. It’s not going to happen and he can’t risk the damage in wishing it would. Bucky and his mother aren’t coming back. All he can do is make new connections and live this life he’s been forced into.

Steve and Nicki parted ways a few hours ago and Steve has been window shopping to pass the time. He can’t be alone with his thoughts right now. He thinks about getting a cup of coffee but doesn’t want to stay up much later.

The noises of the busy street start to buzz too loudly in his head. He decides to walk farther out of the shopping center he’s found himself in. 

Walking along the highway, he takes in the passing cars. Their headlights shine brightly in the dark night. Steve ends up crossing the Potomac and looks over the edge of the bridge, taking in the sight of the passing water. It calms him slightly and he continues on his walk.

Once the noise in his head subsides, he looks around and realizes where he is; Arlington Cemetery. Steve mentally slaps himself. He worry-walked all the way to Virginia. 

After much pacing, Steve decides it would give him closure to see Bucky’s grave. He read about it in a museum once and figures, since he’s here anyway, he might as well.

He steps foot in the cemetery and his stomach begins twisting with anxiety. He wanders through the headstones, running his hand along the tops. Steve eventually makes his way to Bucky’s plot. His breath catches when he finally sees it.

It’s nothing special, just a generic grey slab; his name is inscribed neatly.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes  
March 10, 1917—1945  
Beloved son, brother, and friend

Steve is surprised to see a small bouquet of flowers lying neatly against the headstone. They’re slightly wilted; Steve thinks they must have been there for a few days. Nobody they knew in the war is still alive. Steve can’t think of anyone who would have placed them there. He thinks perhaps it's a volunteer thing. Steve takes a deep breath and sits down by the side of the stone. He’s never been one to talk to the dead, but his whole body aches thinking about all the things he never got to say to Bucky.

“Hey Buck… It’s been a while. I’m uh, well, sorry I haven’t been to see you.” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “I keep thinking you’d be mad at me.” Steve’s face heats up as he begins to feel self-conscious. How did people do this? Bucky can’t hear him, what’s the point?

“Ugh, I don’t know how to do this Bucky.” He lays his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his legs. “I miss you. And I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t belong here, you know? I don’t and I stick out like a sore thumb.” Steve wipes his face along his arm to rub off the tears.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry I didn’t reach farther for you.” Steve rereads the words on the grave over and over. James Barnes: how can one name hold so much meaning to him? He wishes he felt nothing at all, but Bucky deserves better than that. Bucky deserves better.

“I’m not gonna leave you now, pal. I’m here. Promise.” Steve shuffles over so he’s leaning against the side of the stone. He closes his eyes and rests. 

 

*** 

 

Steve is startled awake by the sound of trumpets. He looks around him and sees the sun is sitting high in the sky, the morning breeze gliding lazily past his face. 

Steve runs his eyes and stands up, taking his phone out his pocket. Checking the time, it’s just past 10 am. Steve figures most people are awake by now so he dials the number.

TJ picks up after two rings. “Hello? Steve?”

“TJ. Look, I’m going to be straightforward here. You messed up and it really hurt me. But you also mean a lot to me and you’re on of the only connections I have to the world right now. I’m not willing to give that up, if that’s okay with you. I’m willing to work on our relationship if you are.” Steve waits, happy with what he’s said.

Silence.

“TJ? Are you there?”  
“…Uh. Yeah.” A pause. “Sorry. Can I ask what all this is about? ‘Cause just a few days ago you were about to throw me and Tony out a window.”

“I just realized I got this second chance, and I can’t waste it moping around. I know plenty of good men who would give anything to still be alive. And for me to sit here, complaining about still being alive, how selfish is that?”

“I guess. Yeah, no yeah. Um, okay. If you’ll take me back.” TJ’s tone is noncommittal.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah… Aw fuck, I can’t lie. Um, I’m pretty high right now. Like uh, really high. So I get what you’re saying but at the moment I’m just eh.”

Steve flinches. “Jesus, TJ. Is anyone with you right now?” Steve starts swiftly walking out of the cemetery.

“Nah. I’m at my apartment. Nana is at a brunch so I left. You wanna come over?”

“Yes. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“’Kay. See you then.”

Steve ends the call and puts his phone back in his pocket. He picks up his pace and ends up running the ten plus miles to TJ’s apartment. He pushes open the doors into the lobby and heads to the elevator.

The ride to TJ’s penthouse feels more like minutes than seconds. Once it arrives on TJ’s floor, he enters the passcode and the doors open.

“TJ?” His voice is almost a shout as he looks around, frantic.

“Yo.” He sees TJ lying slack on one of the couches. There are two empty beer bottles on the coffee table along with a half empty bottle of vodka. TJ’s pipe is lying in his lap.

Steve walks over to him, taking the pipe off his lap and setting it on the table next to them. “What was in this?”

“Chill, it was just weed.” TJ has a pout on his face, his lips pursed as he looks at Steve. His eyes are red with blown pupils.  
“I should get you back in your room. You should sleep it off.” Steve says mostly to himself.

TJ huffs out a laugh. “I’ll let you suck my dick if you wanna.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve stands up and they go to TJ’s bedroom. Steve seats him on the bed. TJ is still wearing the sweatpants Steve assumes he slept in. He goes to sit on the opposite side of the bed.

“You ever get high?” Steve shakes his head. TJ smirks and raises an eyebrow. “You tellin’ me you never done drugs? You grew up in the twenties and you never did drugs?”

Steve nods. “Didn’t want to risk it with my asthma. Bucky wouldn’t even smoke around me.”

“Hm.” TJ tugs his shirt off and gets under the covers. “You don’t need to be worried, it’s just weed.” He rolls over so he’s facing Steve who is still sitting up, leaning against the headboard.

Steve sighs. “Why do you do it, TJ? You were doing so well.”

TJ is silent, looking as if he’s contemplating what to say. “Makes me feel good.” And then more quietly, “I just wanna feel good.”

Steve’s face scrunches, the weight of TJ’s words settling on him. “What can I do?”

TJ smiles, somber. “Nothing. It’s just who I am at this point. I’ve accepted it, you should too.”

Steve lies down on his side, facing TJ. “I don’t know if I can accept it but know that I’m here for you. Unless you pull more crap like you did with Tony. I’m sorry, but I can’t support that. If we continue this, whatever we have, you need to be upfront with me. Past and present, okay?”

TJ nods a few times. “Promise.” He grabs Steve’s hand and offers a small smile. “Wanna nap with me?”

He squeezes TJ’s hand gently. “Of course.”

TJ claps once and the lights turn off. “Sleep well, Stevie.”  
“Goodnight.” He puts his arm around TJ’s body and they huddle together under the thick blanket. Steve looks at TJ’s peaceful face, though the strong smell of weed slightly ruins the moment. He kisses TJ’s forehead and promises himself he won’t let this go to waste.

He owes Bucky that much.


End file.
